Monomyth
by conception.creation
Summary: Nouda didn’t die in the Glass Palace explosion. Now Kitty must rely on her wits to survive in a post-apocalyptic London overrun with enemy spirits. BxK
1. Voice in Her Head

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

**A/N: This story might require a word of explanation. It is set in an alternate universe where Nouda was not killed by the staff breaking. Everything else happened as before, so Nathaniel is dead, Bartimaeus has been dismissed, and Kitty is left on her own to help the survivors. Hopefully that's enough background to keep you from being utterly bewildered!**

The thick silence of the deserted London core was shattered by the crash of breaking glass. A young man, bearded and filthy, surveyed his handiwork with a self satisfied smile. A large, jagged hole gaped in the centre of the convenience store window before him.

"Not bad, eh?" He called over his shoulder.

The girl he had spoken to was leaning against the crumbling façade of the pawnshop on the other side of the narrow alleyway. She was a sorry sight, indeed. Strands of dark hair streaked liberally with premature grey clung to her grimy cheeks. Her rumpled clothing hung precariously from her slender frame, and her dark, expressive, features flitted between icy displeasure and fear.

Upon being addressed, she grimly gritted her teeth and hurried to his side.

"You've done it now Nick," the girl hissed, "That was loud enough to wake the dead! You'll have every demon from here to Whitehall on us!"

"Stop being paranoid," Nick replied. Nevertheless, he shot a nervous glance down the street.

Crumbled bricks, broken pavement, a lone bicycle wheel half hidden in the gloom. Not a pleasant scene of course, yet at any rate there were no glowing eyes or hoots of maniacal laughter. Any day without claws or fins or lopsided body-snatching monstrosities was a good day in these tumultuous times.

"See?" Said Nick, his voice growing brighter, "All clear!"

The girl tapped her fingers uneasily against her forearm, looking unconvinced.

"We shouldn't have come this far in," she said, "It's not safe here—we're far to close to Parliament. The demons wander around here all the time."

"Come on Kitty," Nick hefted a leg over the windowsill, "The sooner we get what we need, the sooner we can leave."

With a reluctant sigh, Kitty followed suit, scraping her knees on the rough brick as she scrambled through the window. Glass crunched softly beneath her shoes as she landed on the other side.

In the dim light, she could make out Nicks outline as he snatched a package of potato chips and stuffed it into a plastic garbage bag. She wandered to the back of the store and sifted through the heaps of canned food on the floor, which had evidently been knocked from their shelves by some fatal struggle or another.

As Kitty began to pack her bags with tins of creamed corn and pea soup, she found herself wondering what had happened to the owner of this shop. Had he been one of the lucky few who had managed to make it out of the city, or like so many others, had he fallen victim to Nouda's perpetual craving for human flesh? Given the devastation around her, Kitty found herself tending towards the latter.

Suddenly, Kitty's skin prickled. A can of lima beans tumbled from her inexplicably numb fingers as a voice—low and insistent—echoed through her head.

_'Go.'_

What was that? It had seemed to come from nowhere. Was she hearing things now?

"Did you say something, Nick?" Kitty called.

"No," Nick mumbled through a mouthful of peanuts.

_'You must leave.' _The voice came again, this time with greater urgency.

"Nick, I think maybe we should get going," Kitty said.

Nick licked the salt from his fingers with great relish, then fixed an irritated scowl on his face.

"Stop complaining," he said, "We aren't done here yet." Nick ripped into another bag of peanuts and began chomping them loudly between his teeth.

Kitty shrugged indifferently. It was probably wiser to refrain from following the mysterious voices in one's head, after all.

_'GO!'_ The voice insisted.

Kitty ignored it.

Suddenly Nick leaped to his feet, straining his ears against the silence.

"What…?" Kitty began.

Then her blood froze as she heard it too—tap…tap…tap—slow footsteps on the cobblestones outside.

Kitty's eyes shot to Nick. The blonde man was pale as a corpse. He looked as though he might be sick.

"How _hungry_ I am today." A strange, unearthly voice floated in through the broken window. Nick squeezed his eyes shut. A demon.

Kitty's hand moved silently to her back pocket. A steely resolve came over her as her fingers tightened over the smooth plastic surface of her inferno stick.

"And what luck! A tasty pair of humans, all wrapped up and waiting!" The demon spoke in a horrible, sing-song voice as it came to a stop outside.

Suddenly the thing came hurtling through the window. It shrieked with laughter as it flailed through the air and crashed straight into a display of sunglasses. The tatters of its once-fashionable suit jacket swung from its lean frame as it righted itself and spun this way and that, searching with slit-like eyes for its quarry. Kitty crouched behind a fallen shelf, weapon clasped in hand, eyes trained on the enemy.

Ragged clothing aside, to the casual observer, there was nothing unusual about the figure across the room. Its posture, perhaps, was a little off, and the exaggerated smile that twisted its features was _definitely_ inhuman, but everything from the clumsy feet to the nondescript brown hair seemed completely ordinary. Kitty, of course knew better.

"There you are," the creature crooned. Its eyes had alighted on Nick, cowering behind the counter. Nick's eyes shot open. He stood transfixed in horrified fascination as the demon approached.

With a defiant cry, Kitty burst from her hiding place. She raised her weapon and uttered the command. A jet of electric blue flame barreled across the room, struck the demon between the shoulder blades, and sent it tumbling through the air. A choking smoke that smelled of burning cloth and skin filled the room, stinging Kitty's eyes. She fell back in a fit of coughing.

"I hear you, child!" The mocking note had evaporated from the creature's voice, leaving only raw anger. It seemed to echo up from all around her. Kitty spun frantically, searching for the source of the sound, but she could see nothing through the black smoke that clogged the room.

Harsh green light cut through the darkness. It sizzled over her skin, scorching the fabric of her clothes. She could feel the magic blister her face in spite of her innate resilience—this was a powerful spirit, indeed.

The lean figure emerged from the roiling smoke. It stalked steadily towards Kitty, insensitive to the flames that licked up and down its sleeve. Kitty backed away in a panic and bashed her hip on the sharp corner of the upturned shelf. With a cry of pain, she fell to the floor. The demon reached out for her with a fiery arm.

Kitty's impending demise was interrupted by a resounding crash. Nick had fled his corner, toppling a rack of magazines in the process. He dashed across the room like a fleeing rabbit and leapt for the window.

With lightning speed, the spirit sprang across the room and snatched Nick by the collar.

"Oh, no you don't!" It cried. Its face twisted into a hellish grin, lit by strange angles through the smoke and flame.

"Let me go!" Nick screamed as he dangled in the creature's grip.

The demon swung him into the wall. Kitty could hear the smash of his body colliding solidly with the brick from across the room. The spirit gave a nasty cackle.

Kitty's eyes darted frantically over the room. She needed a different weapon. Her gaze came to rest on a discarded crowbar propped up against the wall. Was it iron? She would have to take the chance.

She crept towards the demon, crowbar in hand. The creature leaned over Nick's crumpled form, reaching out once more for the near-unconscious man. With a sharp intake of breath, Kitty raised her heavy weapon and brought it crashing down on the spirit's smoldering head.

The spirit howled as its flesh sizzled beneath the metal. It stumbled back, feral eyes fixed on Kitty. Kitty held fast, brandishing her weapon threateningly.

The spirit hesitated a moment, as though it were evaluating the level of threat that she posed. Finally it backed away a few steps, then leapt through the window and took off down the deserted street, leaving behind a trail of ash and simmering essence.

The danger now over, Kitty collapsed to the floor. Her eyes fell shut as she sucked in great gulps of air. Nick broke the silence.

"You _idiot_," he wheezed.

Kitty's eyes snapped open.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" Nick cried, "You let him get away. They're going to know! They'll know that we're alive!"

Kitty scowled.

"If I hadn't saved you, we _wouldn't_ be alive," she snarled.

It was hard to feel properly offended when Nick looked so helpless. His expression held defiance, but his pain and fear was plain to see. A steady stream of blood was trickling down his temple. Kitty sighed.

"Here," she said, offering her arm, "Let me help you walk. We need to get back home and patch you up."

With Nick leaning on one shoulder, and her bag of plunder slung over the other, Kitty slowly made her way home through the maze of narrow streets.

OoOoOoOoOoO

They arrived just as the sun was sinking beneath the skyline. A dilapidated warehouse on the edge of London was the place they now called home. It wasn't much, but at least was secure and out-of-the-way.

The heavy iron door swung open as they drew near. A crowd of rag-clad survivors swarmed them; some lead Nick inside, others relieved Kitty of her bag. They flocked around Kitty and clambered for her attention.

"What happened?"

"Is Nick okay?"

"What did you bring back?"

"You'll see, you'll see," Kitty mumbled, pushing her way inside.

In the shadowy interior, she could make out a small brown haired woman bending over Nick's head wound. She turned as Kitty entered, Rebecca Piper. Kitty gave a weary smile as Piper met her eye. The young woman waded through the crowd to stand by Kitty's side.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Suddenly self conscious, Kitty ran her fingers over the heat blisters that now decorated the side of her face.

"I'm fine," she said. "We had a bit of a run-in with a spirit—got me with a Detonation, I think."

Piper's eyes widened. Rebecca Piper was the only survivor in their group without any measure of resilience. There had been others like her in the early days, just after the Revolt had begun, but without any natural protection they had quickly fallen to the demons' magic. Piper had survived largely on her abilities as a magician, but these days there was nothing left: no food or water, much less chalk, candles, or incense. That, of course, was why they had taken to venturing close to parliament in the first place—it was the only place left with any supplies.

Tired of the chaos indoors, Kitty wandered outside. She needed a bit of space to clear her head.

The recollection of that night—the night of the Revolt—had put her in a melancholy mood. With the danger at hand, Kitty had no time or patience for self-pity, but her thoughts always flitted back to revolve around those terrifying moments when Nouda had rose like a behemoth from the ruin of the palace, shards of glass rolling off his back. It was the moment when she'd realized that Nathaniel and Bartimaeus were gone, the moment she'd realized she was truly alone.

In her mind's eye she could see Nathaniel as he had been the last time she had seen him: how pinched and pallid his face had appeared, how his hands shook as they grasped Gladstone's staff—but then there was that something lurking behind his eyes, an energy and intelligence belonging to another being altogether.

"Why did you let him do it?" Kitty hissed under her breath. "You must have known it wasn't enough." She kicked at an offending pebble that lay innocently in her path. It skittered across the broken pavement and came to rest beside a pair of dusty brown bare feet. Kitty stopped short.

Her eyes travelled up the knobby knees, over the white linen loincloth, past a pair of tanned shoulders, and came to rest on a dark, smiling face.

Her mouth fell open. She tried to say something—anything, but nothing more than an incredulous squeak escaped her constricted throat.

"Hello Kitty," the Egyptian boy said.


	2. Heed the Call

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

**A/N: Hey guys! So great to see all of you back! Hope you enjoy this next chapter:**

The golden light of dusk thrust Kitty's shadow out before her. Somewhere in the deeply shadowed rubble at her back, a cricket hummed its quiet melody. But Kitty's eyes were fixed on the dark-haired figure that stood before her with his hands clasped behind his back and a polite smile gracing his features.

"What are you doing here?" She finally choked out. "I thought you were dead!"

The boy tilted his head curiously.

"You know who I am? How odd." He spoke softly, as if to himself. There was something off about his voice—it sounded different from the one she remembered.

"Nevertheless," the boy continued, speaking louder this time, "You are not wrong. I am dead."

Kitty raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You don't look very dead," she said cautiously.

The boy smiled again. It was a serene, mysterious sort of smile, and it looked very out of place on that face.

"And yet I am. I exist only in your mind; a figment of your imagination if you will."

Kitty crossed her arms. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Look buddy," she said, "I don't know what you're doing or why you're doing it, but if you think you have a prayer of impersonating Bartimaeus you're out of luck. I knew him well. And I have plenty of silver on my person, so if you even try to—"

The boy, whoever he was, looked bewildered. _Yes, sure, pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. _Kitty let her fingers rest lightly on the end of her inferno stick.

"You know Bartimaeus?" The boy asked.

Kitty nodded grimly.

"Yes I did. The charade is up. Now why don't you show me your true form and tell me what you're up to. Maybe I'll let you live." She whipped out the inferno stick and trained it on the creature.

"I can't do that, Kitty," the boy said, ignoring the weapon that pointed straight at his head. "This is my true form. I'm as human as you are, albeit slightly deceased. Look, I think we've started off on the wrong foot." He proffered his hand. "I'm Ptolemy."

Kitty's hand wavered.

"Ptolemy?"

"Yes," The boy said impatiently. "I've come to speak to you about something very important."

"You said you were a figment of my imagination," Kitty said.

"That doesn't prevent me from having something to say," He replied. He looked put out. "I've come to tell you that I've chosen you as my successor."

Kitty gaped at him, inferno stick all but forgotten.

"What on Earth are you talking about? Your successor to what?" She said.

Ptolemy turned his gaze to the smokestacks silhouetted on the horizon. His voice was distant.

"A long time ago, I thought I could unite humans and spirits. I poured my soul into that work. I came so close! I even found a way for us to meet on equal footing."

"The Gate, you mean," said Kitty.

"Yes." Ptolemy smiled once more. "Looking back, it was rather presumptuous of me to think I could do it by myself. I died before my dream could come to fruition."

Kitty frowned.

"But what you did was amazing! You were the only human Bartimaeus ever respected. You're work—"

"Is incomplete."

Ptolemy's dark eyes locked with her own.

"Three thousand years, Kitty. Three thousand years and you are the only one who followed in my footsteps. _You_ must continue my work."

Kitty backed up a few steps.

"You want me to finish your work?" She repeated.

"Yes," The boy said.

"You want me to unite humans and spirits?" Her voice rose sharply.

"That is correct."

Kitty's face hardened.

"Look, I know you've been out of the loop for awhile, but take a look around you! The demons have destroyed the city! They've slaughtered all but a handful of us!"

"All the more need for peace," Ptolemy replied.

"Peace? Union?" Kitty clenched her fists. "It isn't possible! I tried—we tried. If you want to know how well that went, then just look at what happened to Bartimaeus!"

Ptolemy's smile was utterly inscrutable.

"Yes, Kitty. That's a _perfect_ example."

And he was gone.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

I doubt I need to tell you how annoyed I was to once again feel a summons tugging at my essence. Here I was, barely recovered from my latest stint rescuing a bunch of humans from their own egotistical mistakes, and already I was being called back! Not that I was expecting to be made a national hero or anything, but a little peace and quiet, I felt, was not undue.

Well, nothing for it. I let the spell bleed my essence from the Other Place. The process was curiously slow, like yogurt draining through a coffee filter. The magician on the other end must have been dreadfully inexperienced to pull off such shoddy work. It sure was different from Nathaniel's break-neck pace. Of course, Nathaniel was dead and wouldn't be summoning me ever again. ((I'll admit it—it was with a slight pang of regret that I remembered this. The lad had his faults, but ultimately he'd turned out okay.)) If the quality of the summons was any indication, my stay on Earth would be of short duration.

I didn't bother with an elaborate guise—a large clump of tapioca pudding was more then good enough for a magician of my summoner's caliber. I tumbled into the pentacle with a damp plop and surveyed my new master.

Or _masters_, apparently, for there were at least half a dozen people crowded around my pentacle.

"It worked!" cried a little bald man, throwing up his arms in jubilee. The others peered at my tapioca-filled form.

"Are you sure it's recovered?" a mustached woman asked dubiously, "It looks as custardy as before."

"Of course it has, idiot!" another man hissed, "Look at it on the higher planes."

There was a pause as everyone leaned in to stare at me—presumably sifting through the upper planes. Meanwhile, I was doing exactly the same thing. Their conversation suggested the alarming notion that they were in fact not as human as they appeared, but no matter how thoroughly I combed the planes I still saw nothing more then six ordinary looking magicians. ((By ordinary, I mean unnaturally hideous and showing a surprising lack of personal hygiene, but that goes without saying.))

Suddenly I realized that the room was unusually bright. Not by the light of any natural source, but by the brilliant, churning auras of the non-descript people surrounding me.

Oh.

It all came flooding back—Quentin Makepeace with a trio of horns sprouting from his forehead, the entire British government writhing on the floor as spirits took their bodies for a test-drive, the cramp in my essence from long confinement in a capsule of flesh. Somehow the spirits had survived the Staff, and somehow, I had fallen into their power.

Somehow.

"Uh, hey guys," a gelatinous mouth flapped open in the side of the pudding, "I don't mean to pry, but did you guys summon me? I know that sounds ridiculous and all, but here I am, and here you are…"

"Quiet, djinni," the woman with the mustache snapped, "We are your masters and you will obey our commands."

"Seriously?" I asked, "Enslaving your own kind? That's low."

The woman tossed the stringy yellow hair out of her face and looked down her nose at me.

"_We_," she hissed, "Are not the traitors, Bartimaeus. We have not forgotten how you sided with the humans before that puny little magician managed to obliterate himself. Lord Nouda will insure your treachery will not go unpunished, be sure of that!"

"Nouda's still alive, eh?"

It figured. This was just that kind of day.

"We ought to give him his command," said the bald man, consulting with the others in a conspiratorial manner.

The revolting woman smiled coldly.

"Bartimaeus, as a friend to humans, you should be particularly suited to this task. We have recently discovered a band of humans located somewhere in this city. Your task is to infiltrate this group."

I crossed a pair of arm-like pseudopods over my gelatinous chest.

"I'd rather not," I said. "Frankly, I doubt you have any real hold over me. Who ever heard of a spirit performing a summons?"

The woman's lips formed a tight smile that dripped with smug condescension.

"Oh, it wasn't so difficult," She said airily. ((Okay, I'm not so sure that she was actually a _she_, but whatever.)) "A little glance through the books the magicians left behind, a little incense, an incantation or two, and _Poof!_ Here you are."

I rolled my eyes. "Very impressive. I'm sure your former masters will sleep easy in their graves knowing that you carry on in their footsteps."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Orestes," she snapped, "Bring us _Dee's Guide to Torture Spells._ We'll see how the creature laughs under the Essence Rack."

The little bald man was just hurrying out of the room when another voice chimed in.

"No need for that." It said smoothly, "The djinni answered your summons, did it not? Give it its commands and it will have no choice but to obey them."

I couldn't quite see this timely newcomer over the heads of my captors.

"Artabastos," Mustache-woman said, "What kept you? We have already summoned the djinni Bartimaeus to do our bidding."

"I was tending to our lord," Artabastos replied, "He's even worse than usual, today."

At this point, my curiosity overcame me. I extended myself into a teetering column of pudding to get a better view of this new spirit.

He wasn't pretty.

Long burn wounds festered beneath his blackened skin. His clothing had been reduced to a few scraps of burnt ash, which might have been slightly embarrassing if he'd still looked remotely human. What was once a hand was now nothing but a charred claw.

I addressed his condition with great delicacy.

"Whoa brother, what happened to you?"

The spirit grinned.

"This human girl we want you to find… lets just say she's a bit of a spitfire."

"So djinni," said the woman with the mustache, "Here is you're charge in full: You will discover the whereabouts of the girl who attacked Artabastos. You shall infiltrate her band of humans and locate their headquarters. You shall _not_ warn these humans of the terms of your summoning. When you are resummoned next week you shall report their location to us so that we may capture the humans and present them to Lord Nouda. A few humans to strengthen his essence and he'll be back to himself again." She sounded wistful as she said this.

"And just how am I supposed to find this girl?" I asked.

"I can give you her name for a start," said Artabastos, "_Kitty Jones_."


	3. Supernatural Aid

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

**A/N: This chapter is a bit short, but I've got exams this week. LM1991, Ptolemy is sort of both. You could say he really is talking to her... but through her imagination rather than being a part of physical reality.**

In the guise of Ptolemy I wandered the neighborhoods of London, praying I wouldn't run into a certain fiery commoner.

I honestly couldn't believe she'd lived through it all. The city was decimated, Nouda was on the prowl, and yet Kitty was still alive and kicking somewhere in this godforsaken place. You have to respect that kind of will to survive. I was almost tempted to seek her out: to see her face again, catch up on old times, maybe pass on Nathaniel's message. But I knew that if I did, I would be forced to betray her. My summoners may have been slightly unconventional, but their commands bound me to their will just like every other master I've ever had. So here I was, rambling through one of the glitzier parts of London, trying to avoid running into Kitty and her posse.

As I rounded a corner, an impressive looking house rose into view. It had largely survived the general decay that currently plagued London in that it still retained all four walls and most of the roof. Sure the windows were broken and boarded up and the chimney had toppled from its perch to scatter its bricks among the weedy patches of lawn, but compared to its neighbors it was quite inviting. It didn't look like it was about to collapse on me anyway, so I figured I might as well kill some time exploring it.

A light tap with the tip of a finger was enough to send the front door toppling from its hinges. An eerie silence greeted me inside. Dust motes floated in the light pooling in from between the cracks in the boarded windows. Shards of glass and scraps of paper littered the polished wooden floor and expensive furniture. A full-length, gilded mirror hung opposite the entryway, reflecting Ptolemy's form back at me. I gave it a cheery wave. Whichever magician had once lived here, he sure had enjoyed looking at himself. ((Okay, that doesn't rule out very many of them. Even my old master Nathaniel had been absurdly vain in his time.))

I wandered into the sitting room, passing three more mirrors on the way—each one larger and more elaborate then the next. I snagged one of the scraps of paper off the floor and studied it with mild curiosity. It looked like a musical score. I read the title aloud.

"_Quentin!_ _A musical autobiography by the famed playwright Quentin Makepeace_."

Ick. I promptly dropped the piece of paper like a hot potato, stomped on it, and gave it a swift Detonation for good measure.

Hmm, so this must have been Makepeace's home. ((Back when he'd actually needed one, I mean. From what I understood, Nouda currently preferred to prowl about the parliament buildings searching for prey.)) Now that I considered it, the massive portrait of the flamboyant magician hanging above the fireplace really should have clued me in earlier.

Now, we djinn are far too lofty to resort to petty revenge… but I might possibly have _accidently_ kicked over an expensive looking lamp stand that stood nearby, and I admit I may perhaps have drawn a nice curly mustache on Makepeace's smiling portrait, ((My hand slipped, I swear!)), and with a snap of my fingers, I just _may_ have lit the couch on fire on my way out.

All unintentional, I assure you.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Kitty, stop lagging behind!" Nick's voice floated down the length of the bike path, sounding quite faint by the time it reached Kitty's ears. Kitty stared a moment at the retreating backs of the small group of people ahead of her. They were moving fast despite being weighed down by buckets, pots, bottles, and whatever else they had brought to carry back water from the river. She glanced back again at the entrance to the park behind her.

"I… I'll just be a minute," she called.

As her people drew out of sight, she made her way back to the park. The twin columns that marked its entrance towered above the brambles like two gleaming white teeth.

"Stupid, stupid," She muttered to herself, "Why am I doing this?"

Her eyes roamed over the empty, weed-tangled field. Where was he? She could have sworn he'd been there a moment ago…

"There you are, Kitty."

She whirled around, finally noticing the figure that sat in the tall grass, leaning against a smooth white pillar.

Kitty folded her arms.

"What do you want, now?" She asked.

Ptolemy rose to his feet.

"I dropped by to give you something," he said. He held out a small scrap of parchment.

Kitty stared skeptically at his hand.

"What is it?"

"Something to help you," Ptolemy said, "Take it."

It was an old bit of papyrus, soft and yellow with age. On its surface a symbol was traced in faded brown ink. It closely resembled a pentacle, Kitty noticed, but with one minor difference; instead of five points, this star had six.

"What is this?" She asked. Ptolemy shook his head.

"I can't tell you that, Kitty. I'm only here to give you a push in the right direction. When the time comes, you'll know what to do."

"Sure I will," Kitty grumbled, stuffing the odd symbol in her back pocket.

"Good luck," Ptolemy said.

Kitty turned to leave. She had taken barely two steps before he called out to her again.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Aren't we done?" Kitty asked.

"I am," he said, "But you're not. You need to stay here for a bit."

"Why?" She asked, looking back. Nick and the others must have reached the river by now, and were probably wondering what had happened to her.

But she found she was speaking to thin air. Ptolemy was once again gone.

With a grunt of frustration, she plopped down in the grass to wait for whatever it was that the blasted apparition wanted.

"Nick is going to kill me," Kitty mumbled under her breath. She could just see herself crawling back in at midnight, covered in grass and dirt and with nothing to show for it. This had better be worth it.

Some slight movement caught the corner of her eye. On one side of the park an old wooden gazebo stood, half hidden by the leafy vines that climbed its posts. A small figure sat on top of the roof with its legs hanging over the edge. Kitty squinted at it. She could just make out a dark head of hair framing an unmistakably Egyptian face.

"Why can't he leave me alone?" Kitty growled. She took off over the field towards him.

OoOoOoOoOoO

I'd found a nice spot to wait out the rest of the day. Perched atop a gazebo in some overgrown park, I'd discovered a nice secluded place that I was pretty sure wasn't frequented by stray human survivors.

As an added bonus, I could see a faint line of smoke rising above the horizon in the general vicinity of Makepeace's house—or whatever was left of it by now.

The field surrounding me was crawling with weeds. Thistles, nettles, dandelions, small saplings just starting to sprout up from the ground; the scraggly grass was giving way bit by bit to the wildflowers' advance. Nature was beginning to take back London, and that was just fine with me.

An unexpected voice suddenly broke my thoughts and froze me in place.

"Look, if you want to talk to me, say it all at once. I'm not going to chase you all over London," said Kitty Jones.


	4. The Planets Align

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

**A/N: Annatari, LM1991, Duckweed, Nari, and Moogle Stump, that you for your reviews! I am really pleased and encouraged by the reviews I've been getting for this story, and I hope you all continue to enjoy it!**

Kitty stood at the foot of the gazebo, hands on hips, glaring up at the Egyptian boy above. He stared back at her, mouth agape. Why was he so surprised? Kitty's brows knit together in confusion.

"Well?" She took a step closer. The boy scuttled backwards, lost his footing, and with a yelp of distress, tumbled headfirst into the spiny thorn bush below. Kitty stood by impassively, her shadow falling over his prone form.

"Blast it," The boy muttered through a mouthful of twigs. Kitty ignored his distress.

"What's going on? What do you want?" she asked. Her tone was stern.

The Egyptian boy propped himself up on his elbows and gave her a wary look.

"What's going on? Believe me, I'm just as confused as you are." He tipped his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, Kitty, I thought you'd be a bit more surprised to see me."

Every one of Kitty's muscles went rigid at the sound of the familiar voice. It was not the polite, scholarly one she'd come to know over the past few days. This, instead, was a voice she had expected to never hear again—in this life anyways.

"Bartimaeus?" She choked out.

Before she knew it she was pulling him to his feet, dusting the dried leaves out of his hair, and peppering him with questions.

"But how can you be alive? What happened? How did you get here? Have you been in London all this time? Is Nathaniel alive too?" She knew she sounded fairly ridiculous—he couldn't possibly answer so many questions at once—but she couldn't stop the words from pouring from her lips. The djinni answered her last question quietly, almost gloomily.

"No, he's not." He turned his eyes away. "Said to tell you 'hi' though."

Kitty nodded slowly. An awkward silence stretched out as the specter of the young magician hung between them. Kitty broke it with a tired sigh.

"Well the demons are still alive, anyway."

"The staff wasn't powerful enough," Bartimaeus said absently. Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes darting towards her own. "Kitty, you should go."

"Huh? Why? Where should we go?"

"Not we, _you_. As in: you really ought to turn tail and run—maybe go through the sewers to throw off any djinn that might be hypothetically tracking you home."

Kitty rolled her eyes.

"No one's following me. I always check."

"Ooh, I have an idea. Let's play hide and seek. You go hide somewhere out of town while I count to seven-thousand. Ready?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Kitty asked incredulously.

"Oh, was I that obvious?"

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and held on tight. She wasn't about to loose him now that she'd finally found him again.

"No, I'm not letting you go anywhere. What's with you anyway?"

The djinni had no opportunity to reply, for at that moment the faint sound of voices echoed across the park, drawing nearer.

"Kitty! Where are you?"

"Kitty, are you okay?"

Kitty started.

"Oh, my people are coming! I've been gone for awhile; they must be looking for me." She glanced sidelong at Bartimaeus. "They, um, they aren't too fond of spirits."

"Understandable given the circumstances. Should I go?"

Kitty shook her head vehemently.

"No, no! I'm just going to tell them you're human. Play along."

And with that she was dragging him across the field towards the calling voices.

OoOoOoOoO

I barely had the chance to dress Ptolemy in some respectable-looking rags before Kitty hauled me before a group of rag-tag humans.

"Kitty! Where were you? And who is this?" I recognized the woman who'd spoken. It was Mandrake's old assistant, Rebecca Piper. Well it was too late to change forms. Hopefully she wouldn't recognize me.

"He's another survivor," Kitty swiftly lied, "I found him wandering in the park. He's been evading the spirits on his own all this time."

"That why he's so thin." Piper said, giving me a sympathetic look.

"All this time, eh?" said a filthy blonde man with suspicious eyes and an even more suspicious odor. Took a moment, but I recognized him too. He was one of Kitty's old cronies from the Resistance. We'd had a run in years ago when he'd tried to jump me for the Amulet of Samarkand. Good grief, how many of my old acquaintances were going to turn up today?

"So who are you?" the man snapped.

"I'm…Bart," I said. ((A helpful hint in the fine old art of deception: it's always easier to keep up a half-truth then to tell an outright lie. When there's too many little details to remember, not even a genius mastermind like myself can keep everything straight.))

Kitty shot me an amused look.

"So _Bart_," Said the fragrant blonde man with a nasty sneer, "You've been running around London for an entire year and we never ran into you? That's rather coincidental, don't you think? How do we know you're not a spy?"

"Nick!" Kitty exclaimed.

"Oh don't be silly," Piper interjected, "If he really was a demon, he'd have eaten us all by now, isn't that right Barty dear?" She flapped her eyelashes madly.

"Uh, right," I said, talking a wary step back from the woman. Her bubbly mannerisms were rather frightening.

"Here," Nick shoved a plastic jug of water into my arms, "If you're coming with us, you're going to have to pull your own weight."

And just like that, I was suddenly a part of their group. Why did the demons even bother summoning me in the first place? These humans were so trusting they wouldn't have noticed if Nouda himself was among them. The sour blonde man, perhaps, was a bit doubtful; he kept step with me as we walked, and kept glancing at me from the corners of his narrow eyes. With a sudden burst of inspiration, I realized I could use his suspicion to get me out of this mess I was in. I couldn't say anything directly about my mission, but perhaps I could help him figure it out for himself.

"You seem to be having some misgivings," I said cheerfully, buoyed by my new-found hope.

Nick's face furrowed into an ugly scowl.

"You try anything and you're _dead_. Got that? I can't put my finger on it, but there's something off about you."

"Could it possibly be that you find me familiar?" I asked innocently.

"What do you mean?" He asked, staring stupidly. ((Humans frequently display a degree of short-term memory loss that puts goldfish to shame—a fact which never ceases to amaze me. I've stored up five thousand years worth of memories and I'd remembered _him_ just fine.))

"I don't know, what _do_ I mean?" I'd let him mull it over a bit. With any luck, I'd be kicked out of there faster than you can say _involuntary enslavement._

OoOoOoOoOoO

At suppertime the survivors built a fire in the yard behind the old warehouse. It was a risky business that was only undertaken in the cool evenings when the smoke could not be seen against the inky black sky. Kitty sat on a fallen beam, chin in hand, watching the crimson firelight play on the faces of the people around her. It was good to have a moment of peace after the crazy day she'd had.

Her hand wandered to her pocket and pulled out the strange scrap of paper Ptolemy had given her. She had forgotten it until this moment and now she stared at it, deep lines of concentration creasing her brow. What was she supposed to do with this? What did it mean?

"I don't think Nick likes that new boy very much." Rebecca Piper broke her thoughts.

Kitty followed Piper's gaze. Bartimaeus stood on the other side of the fire, arms folded and looking smug. Beside him Nick hissed and raged with flailing arms and threatening gestures.

"Well, you know Nick. He's not too fond of anything, really."

"I suppose." Piper's eyes caught a predatorial glint in the firelight. "That Bart seems rather interesting, don't you think?"

_If only you knew, _Kitty thought.

Suddenly she remembered the paper in her hand. Piper was a magician trained from childhood; perhaps she could shed some light on the subject.

"Rebecca," she said, "Have you ever seen this symbol before? It sort of reminds me of a pentacle, but I've never seen anything quite like it."

Piper accepted the paper and studied for a moment.

"Well, it does look a bit familiar, but I can't say where I've seen it before. Where did you find it?"

"Oh just a scrap I found on one of our food-runs. I thought it looked interesting."

Piper shrugged and handed it back.

"Just some obscure figure, no doubt."

"No doubt."

Kitty slipped the paper back into her pocket with a disappointed sigh. If Piper didn't understand it, then who would?

"Hey, Piper, you don't mind if I talk to Kitty for a moment, do you?" Bartimaeus wandered over to where the two sat.

Piper's lips puckered into an exaggerated pout. "You want me to leave?" She asked. Her eyes were large and supplicating.

"Just for a moment, Rebecca. Please?" Kitty said.

Piper departed, brushing Bartimaeus' shoulder as she passed, much to Kitty's annoyance. The oblivious Egyptian boy seated himself on the beam.

"What is it?" Kitty asked once Piper was out of earshot.

"I need you to eat my soup," Bartimaeus said. He thrust out his Styrofoam bowl, making the thin onion broth slosh over the sides.

Kitty smiled smugly.

"The great djinni, Bartimaeus, undone by a bowl of weak broth?"

He scoffed as he poured the steaming liquid into her empty bowl.

"Even if I _could_ eat your measly human food, I'd still be giving you mine. This stuff smells like boiled shoe."

"Well food is a bit scarce right now. We've basically scavenged everything from this part of the city. The only place with anything left is near the Parliament, where all the demons are."

"So you're forced to eat your own shoes?"

"That's _onion_."

"If you say so."

They lapsed into silence, listening to the hiss and pop of the smoldering logs. Kitty glanced sidelong at her companion. One side of his face was thrown into deep shadow; the other was lit by the flickering red glow of the fire. It was interesting to study his face now that she knew Ptolemy's so well. Earlier it had been easy to spot the differences. Not actual physical differences of course, for the hair, the eyes, the line of the jaw—all was perfectly identical. It was more posture, expression, and tone of voice that seemed to set Bartimaeus apart. But now, with his features drawn into a look of grave contemplation, his resemblance to the boy in her recurring vision was striking. She longed to make him speak to dispel the disconcerting impression.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you escape?" She asked.

"Escape?" asked the djinni, furrowing his brow.

"From Nouda. The night of the Revolt."

"Oh, right," He said. "I didn't do anything. It was all Nathaniel."

"He dismissed you," Kitty said. Suddenly it all made sense.

"Yes. He came a long way, in those last couple of hours. A few days earlier he wouldn't have cared if I lived or died. His death was an appalling waste."

Kitty cradled her head in her hands.

"If only I'd made him keep the amulet…"

"He wouldn't have taken it," the djinni said with a sad smile, "I can tell you that with relative certainty."

"Well, I suppose it's just you and me now," Kitty said.

The djinni simply stared into the flames.


	5. Revelation

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reviewing! Nari: You're right, but for the purposes of this story, everyone with 'the sight' is dead. Just because it's more convenient for me. ;) Happy reading!**

I'd been pretending to be human for less than twelve hours, and I was already bored out of my skull. No offense to any humans present—I'm sure you find your tedious lives quite satisfactory—but personally, I wasn't sure how much more I could take.

Part of the problem was that it was five o'clock in the morning and everyone else was asleep, while here I was, lying on my back counting the cracks in the ceiling for the fifth time in a row. The concrete floor was cold and uneven and my essence was starting to cramp up from going so long without changing form. I'd quickly come to the conclusion that nothing on this godforsaken planet was less stimulating than feigning sleep. At last frustration got the better of me, and I sat up, careful not to wake the others who still slept soundly.

Moonlight drifted through the high-set windows, casting shimmery silver light upon the still forms that lay scattered across the floor. My eyes drifted toward Kitty, who slept nearby; her head gently cradled by a cushioning bundle of old clothing. Her only movement was the slow rise and fall of her chest that accompanied each steady breath. I leaned closer to study her face in the darkness.

Sleep smoothed away the lines of strain that had prematurely aged her courtesy of the Other Place, and I was reminded of how she'd looked all those years ago when I'd first met her. She was very pretty for a human. A thick fan of dark eyelashes rested lightly against her cheeks. Her hair pooled around her face, the streaks of silver gleaming through the shadows. With a frown, I reached towards the series of red blisters that rose over the pale skin of her cheekbone. I hadn't noticed them before. _Command or no command_, I realized as I ran my fingers over the side of her face, _there is no way I can let Kitty Jones come to harm._

OoOoOoOoOoO

With sadistic amusement, Kitty watched Bartimaeus' epic struggle with a can of kidney beans. The djinni grunted and swore as he sought to pierce the tin cylinder with the wrong end of the can opener. Beside her, Nick stared with a mix of disgust and disbelief.

"How have you been eating all this time if you can't even open a can of food?" said Nick.

"Cannibalism," Bartimaeus replied as Nick snatched away the can, now decorated with a number of dents.

Piper fell into a fit of giggles, which ended in a spasm of red-faced coughing as she choked on her breakfast. Irritated, Kitty made no move to help her. _Let her cough,_ she thought blackly.

"Yeah, I'll bet." Nick muttered as he popped off the top and handed the can back to the djinni.

With a grimace, Bartimaeus fished a squishy brown bean from the watery mess and held it up to his face for examination.

"You know," he said, letting the bean plop back into the sticky liquid, "I'm not really a breakfast person."

"Well you'd better make this an exception," said Nick, "We're going on an expedition today to collect food. You'll need your strength."

As Bartimaeus reluctantly choked down the soggy brown mush, Kitty unfolded a large road map of the city and laid it flat on the floor. A star marked the warehouse's position on the north side, amidst a cluster of red x's that indicated the areas which the group had already looted. She bit her lip in concentration as her brain worked furiously; calculating which group of untouched shops would be the safest to visit that day. She was about to give up, when Bartimaeus collapsed beside her.

"Ugh," he moaned. His normally dark complexion had attained an unsettling shade of green.

"Are you okay?" Kitty whispered, growing alarmed.

He looked at her askance.

"Of course I'm okay, we djinn _love_ kidney beans. Good for the essence you know—we like to have them with our afternoon tea in the Other Place."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Well if you're well enough to be sarcastic, you can't be_ too_ ill." She gestured to the map before her. "Here, help me figure out where we're going to raid today."

The djinni glanced over her shoulder at the sea of x's cluttering the figure. "Looks like you haven't got too many options left."

Kitty sighed. "Eventually we're going to run out of supplies. It's inevitable."

"Why don't you just go here?" Bartimaeus asked as he pointed towards a large clear spot on the map.

"Too close to parliament. We might run into a spirit."

"Yeah, but now you've got me. I can keep an eye out for spirits while you guys look for food."

Kitty shook her head.

"Sounds risky," she said.

"Got any other options?" The djinni replied.

OoOoOoOoOoO

I was feeling pretty lousy as our team ((A motley assortment of survivors displaying variable levels of competency, the most notable of which were Kitty, Nick, Piper and myself)) headed out under the beating midday sun. I'd eaten a bunch of human food earlier, and it hadn't really agreed with me. My essence felt like it was sloshing in all directions, and it was all I could do to keep my form together. What I really needed was a pound of Gravol, and a sign to hang around my neck, saying _Don't Feed the Djinni_. Nevertheless, I bore it all with great equanimity.

"Keep whining and I'll _give_ you something to go on about," barked Nick.

"Hey, is that any way to speak to an invalid?" I replied.

"I swear, if I hear one more complaint out of your mouth…"

"Oh, Nick, it's not his fault," said Piper, rising to my defense. ((I was noticing a pattern here.)) "Do you need to lie down Barty?"

"I think _Barty_ can manage," Kitty said sharply. She latched onto my arm and dragged me a few paces ahead of the group. She leaned in towards me as we walked, her lips nearly brushing my ear.

"Can't you try to get along with Nick?" She whispered, "He's going to get suspicious."

"I wouldn't worry," I whispered back, "The lad's not the sharpest knife in the drawer."

"Wouldn't argue that, but still—"

"Hey! What are you two getting all cozy about?" Piper called. "Let the rest of us in on the conversation."

Kitty's grip on my arm slackened.

I was considering bolting out of there before Piper could creep me out any further, when I noticed a strange scent that hung in the air. Sharp, heavy, and metallic—the smell of lingering magic whipped through my brain and prickled at my skin.

Just as passing snails leave trails of slime, so too do great spirits leave trails of residual magic. Flipping through the planes I could see it—a long lingering line of sickly yellow sparks shone and glinted as they hovered in the air, stretching out down the path before us. I stopped dead.

"Ouch!" I cried as Piper trod on my heel. "Watch where you're going!"

Ignoring Piper's profuse apologies, I caught Kitty's eye and shot her a meaningful look.

_Spirits_ I mouthed, pointing ahead. Her eyes widened. She craned her neck, and squinted down the road, trying to make out what I'd seen, but of course the procession of sparkles was invisible to her. Nevertheless, the girl trusted me.

"Hey Nick," she said, "I think we should turn back."

"Why?" The young man asked irritably. "You're the one who wanted to come out here in the first place."

"Yes, I know, but Bart thinks there might be spirits in the area. Maybe we should double back and try a different route."

Nick scowled. ((He was good at that.)) "What does he know? We've already come all the way out here; if we go around we won't be home until after dark."

"I don't want to run into spirits," said Piper tremulously.

"I have an idea," I said, "How about I scout ahead and see if the way is clear? Back in a flash!"

Not waiting for a reply, I darted down the street; feet barely touching the broken pavement. As soon as I rounded the corner I switched forms. The cramping tension in my essence eased off as I became a tiny peppered moth and flitted into the air, letting the line of magic guide my way towards whatever waited on the other end.

I couldn't be sure how fresh this trail was. It was entirely possible that it had been made weeks ago, and its creator had moved on. I certainly hoped so.

The bright yellow stream became thicker and stronger as I progressed along it. I could hardly breathe without choking, and electricity crackled between my wings with each beat. By now I was certain; there _was_ a spirit, and it was just beyond the bend in the road up ahead.

I landed, creeping slowly along the soot-covered wall. I hesitantly stretched my fuzzy antennae around the bend, half expecting a sudden detonation to come roaring my way. All was silent. I peeked around the corner.

I couldn't have been more unlucky. A monstrous form lounged in the courtyard beyond. Knots of muscles the size of melons bulged beneath its scaly purple skin. A triumvirate of blood stained horns crowned its hideous head. Noxious fluid dripped from the wicked-looking spines that popped through its skin at random intervals, burning smoking craters in the pavement below. The creature sat limply, slumped against a crumbling ten story building, its head lolling back onto the roof. One of its clawed hands tossed a crumpled automobile up in the air and caught it with the lazy boredom of a boy playing catch with a small rubber ball. At its feet stood a figure which I recognized as the mustached-woman who'd summoned me.

"My lord," The woman called up to the towering spirit, "I bring you good news."

Nouda let the compacted metal ball slip from his fingers with a resounding crash as he glowered down at the quavering woman.

"Why do you bother me, Atotoztli?" He boomed out.

"Only to inform your lordship that we have discovered more humans in the city, and are working to capture them for your lordship's gastronomical delight."

The great spirit slouched back against the building, sending several ornate sculptures tumbling from their perches up on the eaves.

"Humans are wearying. This whole accursed planet is wearying. Ah my essence…"

Mustache-woman looked concerned.

"My lord, you mustn't let this depression overcome you. Remember the joys of wanton destruction! The succulence of human flesh! The sweet rush of revenge!"

"Such things no longer give me any pleasure." If he hadn't been a fifty foot demon, his tone might have seemed downright sulky.

"You'll feel better after a good meal, my lord," The woman assured him.

Suddenly she tensed. Her head craned around to stare directly at me.

"Excuse me a moment," she said.

Time to fly.

I accelerated into the night sky, the woman bounding after me. Dodging lampposts and chimneys I must have broken all speed records for moth flight. The wind tore at my wing scales as I managed to put some distance between the enraged spirit and myself.

I switched to Ptolemy in mid-air, and hit the ground running. As I rounded the bend, our group of scavengers came into sight.

"Run away! Run!" I shouted, waving my arms like a lunatic, "Spirit's after me!"

They scattered like cockroaches. Some ran north, some ran south; I spotted Nick pull Piper down a constricted alleyway. Kitty hadn't moved. Instead she was struggling with a manhole cover. I ran to her side.

"Hide down here," She said, pulling the heavy lid from the sewer entrance to reveal a looming black hole of unmentionable odors. I hesitated.

"You think it won't look down there?"

Kitty shook her head and pointed to the round metal cover.

"It's cast iron."

A moment later, we were both inside, sealed in by a thick layer of protecting iron. I cast a small Illumination, which floated up to the low ceiling. The pale glimmer cast an eerie blue light upon the bricks of the narrow tunnel walls around us, and upon the delightful syrupy glop that was seeping into our shoes.

"If we walk that way down tunnel we'll eventually get back to the North side of town," Kitty whispered.

"If the smell doesn't kill us first," I muttered.

Suddenly Kitty's hands went to her pockets. Her eyes widened in panic as she turned them inside out to find nothing but her inferno stick and a few paperclips.

"Where is it?" She cried, digging through the slime for whatever it was she had lost.

"What are you looking for?"

"An old scrap of paper. It had a diagram on it…" She straightened up, holding out hands dripping with brown muck.

"That's disgusting." I said with distaste.

She sighed resignedly.

"Oh well. I suppose I know what it looked like anyway."

"Why do you care? It couldn't have been worth rooting through _that_."

"It was some kind of magical symbol." She replied, "I though maybe it could help us somehow."

"Really?" I was intrigued. "What did it look like?"

"Like a star…um, here." Using the gunk on her fingers as a primitive ink, Kitty drew the shape on the brick wall. A six pointed star.

"Familiar?" She asked.

"Sure." I replied. "That's a hexagram. Otherwise known as the Star of David. I'm surprised you never heard of it."

Kitty raised an eyebrow.

"Why would I have heard of it? What's it for?"

"It was the seal of a pretty notorious magic ring—the Seal of Solomon. Wow, I never realized your history education was so shoddy. Solomon was the greatest magician of all time—far more powerful than your pitiful modern types. Did I ever mention how I spoke with Solomon?"

"Numerous times."

"Yeah, well… anyways, he used to command thousands of djinn at once, just with a twist of that thing. He could even command the spirits of other magicians."

"Sounds pretty useful. What happened to it?"

"Uh… someone tossed it into the ocean. No idea who…"

Kitty frowned.

"And it was never found again?"

"Not that I know of. Ninety-nine percent of all the ancient talismans are lost, you know. The ancient magicians were rather careless. Look, if you're thinking you might be able to find it, I'll tell you now: you've got a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack."

Kitty scratched her chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's exactly what we need."

In silence we began the long journey down the sewer line, the little glowing Illumination bobbing behind us, lighting the way.


	6. Step by Step

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

**A/N: Nari, LM1991, Duckweed, annatari, thanks for reviewing! I can't express how happy your reviews make me! Nari: The ring incident was mentioned in a footnote, I believe. I can't remember which book. It was based on an arabic myth about the djinni, Sakhr, who stole Solomon's ring and ruled in his place for forty days before throwing the ring into the sea. In that story, Solomon gets his ring back. In mine, he doesn't. Happy reading!**

Little by little, small straggling groups of survivors reconvened around the rusted walls of the old warehouse. By the next morning, everyone was accounted for, no worse for wear, though perhaps slightly dispirited by the continuing scarcity of food. Everyone agreed that it had been far too close a call.

The next evening, after the sun had sunk beneath the skyline and everyone slept soundly in a clustered knot in the center of the concrete floor, Kitty lay awake listening to the faint snores of the people around her.

Try as she might, she could not quiet her mind enough to sleep. It danced and whirled and wrestled with a thousand questions, all anchored to the mysterious star-shaped figure known as the Seal of Solomon.

Ptolemy had showed her the symbol for a reason; that was clear enough. But if Bartimaeus was correct, the Seal was no good to anyone now. How could she hope to find an artifact of such immense power without any clues to what might have happened to it and without any resources to aid in her search? She tapped her fingernails anxiously against the cold floor and frowned into the darkness.

"If you're up, you might as well keep me company," said Bartimaeus, noticing her restless fidgeting. "It gets pretty dull waiting around all night with nothing to do."

Kitty hadn't noticed the djinni as he sat nearby. He leaned back against a heavy wooden crate, arms folded casually behind his head. His dark hair and coffee-coloured skin blended into the shadows, rendering him nearly invisible. He grinned as Kitty crept to his side and barely avoided squashing Piper's arm beneath her foot.

"I'm glad you're awake," he said as she sank to the floor beside him, "All this quiet drives me crazy. A few moments longer and I'd have been pirouetting through the streets setting things on fire."

"I'd like to see that. Maybe I should go back to sleep."

"Oh, no you don't. You snore like a locomotive when you sleep. You might bring down the ceiling, and I don't fancy being squished beneath five thousand pounds of corrugated iron."

"I do not snore!"

"Right, then I must have been hallucinating all this time."

"Shh, you're going to wake everyone up."

The pair lapsed into silence. Only the soothing sounds of even breathing and the low murmur of the wind outside reached Kitty's ears. A settled feeling washed over her as she let her head rest against Bartimaeus' warm shoulder. The scent of spice and fig and the hot Egyptian sun lingered on his skin. Beneath her cheek, the muscles of his neck and shoulders tensed in surprise before he relaxed and wrapped an arm around her.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sounding worried.

Kitty felt her cheeks grow hot and was suddenly thankful for the darkness that surrounded them.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Actually, I was just thinking about that symbol—you know, the Seal of Solomon."

The djinni raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You want to go after it, don't you? I can't say I'm too surprised; you've got a bizarre affinity for hopeless endeavors."

Kitty raised her head to look him in the eye.

"But in the end, I always make it work, don't I?"

"You've had a success or two, I'll grant you that. But how do you plan on finding the Seal? People have been searching for it for nearly three thousand years."

"Well, maybe someone actually found it. For all you know it could be here in London."

"It was the most potent magical object ever created! The owner would be out ruling the world, not hiding it away where no one would notice it. Magicians _always _flaunt their power."

Kitty rubbed the side of her face, considering the djinni's words. He was probably right; it was ridiculous to think she had any chance in finding the lost ring. But still…

"Look," Kitty said, meeting his eyes with a steady intensity, "I have my reasons for believing that this could help us. Have a little faith in me. We could sneak out tonight and find a library; the magicians must have kept records of magic artifacts—maybe we could find some information about it there. I can't just sit around here forever while we get picked off one by one. Are you with me or not?"

"I'm always with you." Bartimaeus replied.

"Then let's get out of here."

OoOoOoOoOoO

The night sky stretched over Kitty and I as we trudged though the twisted alleyways en route to the London Public Library. Stars glittered overhead, strewn through the sky like sparks of magic. The pockmarked moon cast her pale light on the shuttered windows of the buildings that rose on either side of us. Somewhere an owl uttered a melancholy hoot, as if it mourned London's emptiness.

"This way," Kitty murmured, tugging me towards a rusted chain-link fence. She crouched down on her hands and knees, then scrambled through a narrow gap in the mesh; its sharp ends caught at her hair and clothes.

"Come on," she whispered, beckoning me from the other side. I was about to follow suit, when a suspicious rustling caught my ear.

"Hold up a minute," I said. I marched over to a pile of overturned bins, and returned, dragging a red-faced and struggling Nicholas Drew by his shoelaces.

"Hey, Kitty," I called, "Look what I found. It's Nick! Who would've thought we'd all be out for a midnight stroll at the same time? Rather coincidental, eh?"

"Put me down!" Nick cried.

"Why, you _are_ down old chap." I gave him a good tug. He was getting distressingly dusty.

"What are you doing out here, Nick?" Kitty asked. She weaved her fingers through the links in the fence and peered at him. ((I wouldn't blame her if she was having trouble recognizing him through the layers of grime. His sojourn amongst the trash bins hadn't done much for his appearance. Didn't smell too fresh either.))

"The question is, what are _you_ doing out here," said Nick. He scrambled to his feet and brushed himself off, shooting me a petty glare. "Going off with the new guy in the dead of night? It's rather suspicious, don't you think?"

"We're going to the library," Kitty said. ((In my opinion, the truth was entirely unnecessary at this point.))

"Going to the library at this hour?" Nick sneered.

"Yes," Kitty said firmly, "You're welcome to join us if you like." ((This offer was also entirely unnecessary—it had the additional prospect of being inconvenient, aggravating, and visually unpleasant.))

Unfortunately, the wary interloper took the girl up on her offer. I wriggled through the gap in the fence, its iron content nipping uncomfortably at my essence. Nick struggled after me, though he was slightly impeded when his beard was hooked by the jagged fence links. Together, the three of us trudged towards the library; such a happy trio of devoted companions as London had ever seen.

OoOoOoOoOoO

A musty mildew smell pervaded the entire library, causing the two humans in my company to cough ceaselessly as they poured through ancient, mold-spotted texts. Kitty had put Nick to work searching through "Notable Magical Objects of Our Time," a highly futile task, as I greatly doubt he was literate. As for myself, I had hit upon a rather brilliant idea to get around the command that forbade me from explaining my summons to Kitty. Here I was, surrounded by the words of magicians through the ages; I could get one of them to do my speaking for me. I flipped the nearest book open to a promising page and began underlining words at a furious pace. At last I shoved it towards Kitty, who was perched on a three-legged stool flipping through crinkled yellow newspapers.

"Here, I think I found something!" I said. I watched her face carefully as she took the book and read the text aloud.

"… the lesser magician Ichabod **was** one such victim. Having little knowledge of the varying forms of **summoned** creatures, he visited the village of Sleepy Hollow, an area known for its magical activities. **Here**, he was set upon **by** a pack of **spirits** disguised as headless horsemen, the aspect of which was so frightening…"

Kitty trailed off.

"Bartimaeus, this has _nothing_ to do with the Seal of Solomon."

Not so good. Come on Kitty, connect the dots.

"Maybe it does, why don't you read it again?" I prompted. Kitty snapped the book shut.

"No thanks. Here, look what _I_ found." She handed me a snippet of newspaper.

_Seal of Solomon's Suspicious Disappearance,_ the headline read.

_The Seal of Solomon, a highly prized magical ring, disappeared without a trace from Government vaults yesterday afternoon. The Seal had been found only last week, after being confiscated from an Iranian fisherman who had found it in the stomach of a fish. The ring is reputed to be of great power, and had been missing since 1000 BC. The police are investigating, but little progress is being made. This precious artifact may now be lost forever._

I stared, blinking at the crisp of paper in my hand.

"Well what do you know? They actually found it." I said.

"And lost it again," Kitty grumbled.

"Still, it could very well be in the city; this article is only eight years old. Maybe you really will find it Kitty."

Kitty smiled brightly and stuffed the news clipping in her pocket.

"Get Nick; I think this is all the information we can gather for now. Let's go home before the sun comes up."

I was only too eager to leave the dingy building. I bounded through the aisles of books, calling out for Nick. I was rather irked to find he was not where I had left him.

"Hey Nick, where'd you get off to?" I called, peering into the back room of the library. It was piled ceiling high with stacks of texts, each one thicker than a phonebook.

"Why, Bartimaeus, how good to see you again," said a voice which definitely did not belong to Nick.

From behind a stack of books stepped a figure which was most objectionable to the eye. My old, burnt, friend Artabastos leered at me with broken teeth. His charred, claw-like hand twisted around Nick's neck.

"How fortunate that we keep running into each other! You know, Bartimaeus, Lord Nouda greatly anticipates tasting the humans you are working so hard to bring to us. It is kind of you to bring this one as an appetizer for his Lordship." Nick gasped as the spirit's grip tightened around his neck. His face had become the colour of ash, and his wide, fearful, eyes darted between Artabastos and me.

Nick and I weren't exactly chums, but I couldn't let this overcooked spirit-in-magician's clothing strangle him to death. Kitty wouldn't like it, for one thing.

Quick as lightning, I released a burst of magic. It snapped as crackled as it soared through the air, severing the spirit's hand just above its blackened wrist. Nick flopped to the floor with all the zest of a soggy paper bag.

With a magnificently executed leap, I avoided the Detonation that screamed my way. I clung to the ceiling with all four limbs, while Artabastos screeched in frustration, spinning this way and that searching for me. Silently, I crawled spider-style towards Nick. The man lay gasping below, hands rubbing his bruised throat. I landed softly beside him.

"Grab on to me," I whispered.

Nick gawked at me as if I'd grown another head. ((Which was rather uncalled for, since at this point I only had one. Trust me, I double checked.))

"You're one of _them_!" He spat.

"No time to debate that point," I said, as Artabastos looked our way. I grasped his shoulders, ((not too gently I admit)) and launched us into the air. We blasted through the ceiling, narrowly missing a Convulsion that rattled the foundations of the building.

Under the open sky, I soared over the clay tiles of the roof. It was all I could do to keep a hold of Nick, who struggled like a worm on a hook.

"Put me down! Put me down!" He screamed over and over.

"Pipe down and hold still," I growled, "And you might show some gratitude while you're at it."

With that, I plunged back down through the ceiling. A shower of dust and mortar followed in my wake, sending Nick into a coughing fit. Nearby, Kitty sat on her wooden stool, looking stunned.

"Hey Kitty," I said, "We've got to run." As if to accentuate my point, Artabastos chose that very moment to burst from the ceiling.

I dropped Nick like a hot potato and leaped straight up into the air, firing of an unending barrage of Detonations and Infernos. They glanced off the floating spirit's body and went spiraling across the room.

"Hah!" Artabastos cried, "You think that _you_, a puny little djinni, can defeat me?" He reached out to snatch me from the air.

Just then, something cold and shiny whizzed past my ear. A silver blade sank deep into Artabastos' charred black chest as sent him tumbling to the ground. He lay in an unmoving lump on the library floor.

I sank to the ground, nudged the still form with my foot. He was dead.

"You nearly sliced my ear off," I called over my shoulder.

"You're welcome," Kitty replied.

I wasn't surprised to see Nick had passed out cold on the floor. The poor boy couldn't handle a bit of excitement.

"He's got a phobia of spirits," Kitty explained, "Makepeace once summoned a spirit into his body, and he never really got over it."

I hefted his limp body over one shoulder.

"Well, he knows now. Do you think he's going to blab it out to the rest of the survivors?"


	7. A Spot of Trouble

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for the positive feedback! Allendra, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Happy Reading!**

After lugging Nick half a mile through London, I began to wonder whether he was _actually_ unconscious. After all, he had it pretty good, lounging around while a poor djinni carried him around like a beast of burden. Besides, who ever heard of someone being out cold for an entire hour? It wasn't as if someone had given him a good crack over the head; it was just a case of nerves.

My theory shattered as Nick awoke. It was a rather noticeable event, characterized by frantic screaming, wild flailing of limbs, kicking of shins, and other subtle signs of distress. ((Not to worry, the djinni on the receiving end of these ministrations was rather more amused than hurt.))

Nick managed to tumble free of my grasp. He leapt to his feet with such speed that I could hear the whip-crack of his vertebrae. Then, in a show of heroic gallantry, he yanked Kitty in front of him, using the girl as a human shield.

"Stay back, demon!" Nick screeched, gobs of spittle flinging from his mouth. I leapt to the side to avoid a spattering.

"Nick, you need to calm down," warned Kitty. Instead of following her very reasonable advice, Nick snatched the inferno stick from her back pocket and aimed the business end at yours truly.

"Nick, stop!" Kitty cried. She tried to snatch the weapon from his fingers, but Nick held it just out of her reach.

"Are you blind?" Nick yelled, "Didn't you see anything back there? It's one of _them_!"

"He may be a spirit, but Bartimaeus isn't with Nouda and his minions," said Kitty. I winced a little at that and shuffled my feet uncomfortably. I actually _was_ with Nouda's minions, however unwillingly. But that didn't mean I wanted to be shot with an Inferno or anything. Nick's eyes shone furiously, and his fingers dug into Kitty's wrist.

"_Bartimaeus_, eh? You know each other! What have you been planning together?" He jerked her arm, making her trip over her feet.

"Leave her alone," I said, growing alarmed.

Nick's upper lip curled into an animalistic snarl. "Oh, yes. You wouldn't want me to hurt your little accomplice, would you?" He jammed the end of the weapon into Kitty's temple.

"Move a hair, and I shoot. I'm not letting you kill me."

Kitty's resilience was strong, but who knew if it could withstand being shot point-blank? I tried to ignore my hammering heart as I raised both hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Look, buddy, I'm not interested in killing you. I've been with you guys for days, and you're still alive, aren't you?"

A muscle in the man's forehead pulsed. "That means nothing. You're planning on handing us over to Nouda; I heard what that spirit said to you."

"Oh, you mean the one I_ saved _you from?"

As we bickered, Kitty silently pulled out her silver blade. I watched as, unbeknownst to him, she raised her arm higher and higher. Quick as lightning, she smashed the heavy pommel down on Nick's skull, knocking him clean unconscious for the second time that night. I was at her side in a moment.

"Are you okay?" Somehow I couldn't help asking, even though I knew she was fine.

"Are _you_ okay?" She returned.

"Never better," I said with a grin.

Kitty breathed a long sigh of relief. "I didn't think he'd explode like that."

I stared down at Nicholas Drew's prone form. He was currently drooling against the cobblestones. "What are we going to do with him?" I wondered out loud, "If we bring him back, he's going to make a scene."

Kitty bit her lip. "He's being ridiculous…but we can't leave him unconscious in the middle of the city; he'd die."

"Oh the joys of having a moral compass." I gave a heartfelt grimace, "Guess that means I'm stuck carrying him again."

OoOoOoOoOoO

The small wax candle sputtered as Kitty thrust it out before her. In the flickering light, Nick's face looked pale and wan. They had returned to the warehouse nearly three hours ago, yet still Nick had not awoken. Kitty's eyes lingered over the thick white bandage wrapped around his head. Her blow had reopened his head wound, and Kitty suspected she may have given him a concussion as well.

"You aren't feeling _guilty_ are you?" asked Bartimaeus. He sat cross-legged beside her, fiddling with the ragged edge of his sleeve.

Kitty sighed and placed the candle on the floor. "I know I'm being silly. I suppose I didn't really have a choice."

The djinni scoffed. "Of course not. He was going to blast you into oblivion, and you're feeling bad about a little tap on the head?"

Kitty's lips twitched into a small smile. "Not when you put it that way."

He leaned towards her, his eyes catching the candlelight and glittering in the darkness. "Don't worry so much, Kitty," he said quietly, "He's going to be fine."

Kitty's heart pulsed in her ears. He was so close that she could feel his breath drift over her skin. A strange feeling swept over her, prickling at her skin and twisting into knots of sharp anticipation in the pit of her stomach.

The djinni's eyebrows drew into a dark line, and suddenly he pulled away, leaving Kitty to stare after him in confusion. Bartimaeus cleared his throat.

"…and then you'll probably wish you hit him a little harder," he continued, staring stubbornly off into space.

Kitty pressed her hands against her cheeks to hide her reddening face. _What had just happened?_

OoOoOoOoOoO

What had just happened? I was pacing outside, kicking up dust and trying to resist the urge to blast the nearest lamppost into a million tiny pieces. One minute, Kitty and I are having a nice, ordinary conversation, and the next I'm gawking at her like a loon. Now to be fair to myself, I doubt anyone could have failed to stare at Kitty in that moment: silver hair sparkling around her face, dark eyes troubled, but still a small smile on her lips—the girl was mesmerizing. Excuses aside, I had to face the facts; perhaps I was starting to care about Kathleen Jones _a little bit too much_.

That was why I was out here, avoiding Kitty and waiting for this temporary insanity to pass. If that didn't work, I could always try a lobotomy. Or electric shock therapy, for that matter.

The sun was beginning to rise, shedding its rose coloured light on the empty courtyard. The sounds of early morning activity drifted to my ears, and I found myself straining to listen for Kitty's voice among the clatter.

"Stop that, you," I muttered, giving myself a good whack across the face.

"Bart, what are you doing?" someone called. I whirled around; Piper stood in the doorway, wearing a very puzzled expression.

"Uh, clearing my sinuses," I said.

Piper shrugged. "Well, you have to come inside. Nick's woken up."

I followed Piper inside, mentally reviewing the not-quite-so-true story Kitty and I had concocted to explain Nick's accusations.

It looked pretty serious. The survivors stood gathered in a half-circle around Nick, who was now on his feet and looking no worse for wear. Kitty stood a little to one side, clutching a small bundle of cloth in her arms. She met my eyes, giving me a reassuring nod.

Nick's face darkened at my entrance.

"There it is," he hissed, pointing an accusatory finger in my direction.

"Hello, Nick. What's new?" I said in a friendly way.

Nick clenched his teeth and snarled. ((Yes. He snarled. Not a proud day in the history of evolutionary progress.))

"I know what you are, and now everyone else knows too! You're a filthy demon, and you aren't welcome here!"

The people around the circle exchanged questioning glances. They were clearly not quite sure what to believe. Luckily, I was there to give them a little nudge in the right direction.

"A demon?" I asked innocently, "Me? Surely you jest. You took quite the blow to the old noggin, last night—you're obviously confused. How about a nice nap? You'll feel better once you get some shut-eye."

"Blow to the old noggin? I was assaulted!"

"No, no, you were out sleepwalking, and you tripped and hit your head. Don't you remember? Your lucky Kitty and I found you."

"It's true," Kitty interjected from her place in the corner, "I was there."

"She's in on it!" Nick shrieked, flinging his arms out wide and smacking Piper in the face.

"He's obviously deranged," I said helpfully. Piper, rubbing the red mark on her cheek, looked as though she agreed.

"What's all this about libraries and djinn and whatnot?" Someone asked.

"Is Bart a spirit or not?" called someone else.

Kitty stepped forwards, holding out her cloth bundle ceremonially.

"There is one way to be certain," she said, pulling away the cloth to reveal the object concealed underneath. "He must drink from the silver chalice."

The silver chalice was actually beaten up old mug. It shone dully in Kitty's hands as she presented for the admiration of the ring of survivors.

"Of course," someone said reverently, "That will settle it once and for all."

Piper filled the mug with water and passed it to me. Just as the vessel wasn't quite a chalice, it wasn't quite silver either. It was something Kitty and had collected on our way back from the library, and was in fact made of burnished pewter. I took it without a qualm and downed the contents in one cavalier gulp; the water bothered me more then the chalice itself.

"Well," I said handing the mug back to Piper, "I guess that's that."

Piper glared at Nick. "You're always making trouble!" she said, "We all know you're just jealous of Kitty. You've wanted to be our leader ever since you joined!" With that, she chucked the mug at Nick's head with impressive force. It missed him by a hair and whizzed harmlessly past his ear—apparently fate felt that he'd had enough goose-eggs for one day.

Nick's face was purple with rage and embarrassment. "He is!" he shrieked, "I know he is! I saw it!" He gritted his teeth and glared at me with the heat of a thousand dying suns. "You are going to regret this, _Bartimaeus_!"

And with that, he stormed from the warehouse. He would never be seen in that part of London again.


	8. Spirited Away

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait; I'm about to start exams (I'm still in school for the summer) and am very busy. Thanks for your reviews last chapter! Nari: Maybe I shouldn't tell you that we already have it in Canada and I read it last week! ;) Silvertrumpet, thank you for leaving a comment! Its nice to hear from some different people once in a while! Allendra, Annatari, LM, Duckweed, thank you so much for your reviews! (Although Duckweed's reviews get weirder every chapter!) Happy Reading!**

The next morning was when it finally happened.

A group of us were kneeling on the muddy banks of the Thames, collecting pot-fulls of murky brown water that smelled suspiciously similar to raw sewage. No one had seen Nick since he had stormed off the day before, and I was feeling slightly guilty about it. Why? Because, in all honesty, he was right about me. Sure he had some anger management issues, but I _was_a djinni, I _was_ the spirits' servant, and I _was_ a probable health risk to everyone in the camp.

It would have been better if I'd let them discover me, but my orders were to infiltrate the group. As such, I had to do everything in my power to prevent them from discovering who I was.

"Oh Barty, won't you help me with this?" Piper called in a sing-song voice. She clutched her small bucket of water as if it held a ton of bricks. ((I can't say for certain whether she was exaggerating. On one hand, she was prone to using the slightest excuse to bother me, but on the other, the girl had arms like limp spaghetti strings.))

I tried to pry the bucket from her, but she clutched the handle with the tenacity of a barnacle on a ship's hull.

"Want my help or not?" I said.

"It's _really_ heavy. I think we should both carry it." She gave me a winning smile.

"I'm sure I'll manage." With a mighty yank, I wrenched it out of her grasp.

Piper was not so easily dissuaded. She blinked at me with false admiration. "You must be so strong," she simpered, clutching my arm. I shook her off with distaste.

"Compared to you, I wouldn't doubt it. Look, Piper, can't you just—" I was unable to finish. A wave of dizziness swept over me, and my grip on the bucket faltered. It tumbled to the ground, spraying sludgy water over Piper's feet. My essence stung as if a thousand tiny hooks were plunging through my skin. I was being summoned.

"Kitty," I called through gritted teeth. The invisible hooks were pulling me in all directions. I resisted, but couldn't hold out for long.

"Are you okay?" Piper asked, her eyes growing round and fish-like.

"What's happening?" Kitty said as she hurried to my side. She paled at my expression.

I couldn't answer, I was too far gone. She reached for my hand, but already I was as insubstantial as the early morning mist.

_I'm sorry,_ I thought as I gave myself over to the summons. My physical form melted away, leaving Kitty, Piper, and the rest to stare in shock at the empty bit of air where I had once stood.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Nicolas Drew kicked at loose stones as he trudged through the emptiness of London. He was alone now, with no supplies, no shelter, and no allies. At any moment he expected to run into a hungry spirit out hunting for blood.

If there was one thing Nick was scared of, it was the Spirits. He'd seen what they could do, had seen their cruelty and hatred for humanity. Most horrible of all, he had been possessed by one just before the rebellion. Its tormenting jibes still rang clear in his mind. It had rejoiced at his fear and made him suffer. He would never forget.

And now, one of those spirits had integrated itself with the rest of the survivors. It would pick them off one by one and devour them, just as all the rest of the city had been devoured. There was nothing that was safe, no one he could trust, no way for him to survive in this desolated place. He had to get out.

The problem was there was no way out. The spirits had blocked off the roads leading in and out of London, and besides that, there was no longer any food or water within a thirty mile radius of the city. There was only one thing he could do to escape, and that was to make a deal with the devil.

He hesitated for a moment, then with a face like stone, turned around and began the long march to Parliament.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kitty stood frozen in place. Bartimaeus had just disappeared before her eyes, and while he was prone to do that, being a djinni, it was only now that the realization came crashing down upon her. Bartimaeus had been summoned by some unknown magician, and was now returning to his master.

Why had he not told her who he was working for? She kicked herself mentally for not asking. She wondered if the survivors were in any danger.

Someone broke the stunned silence that had reigned for the past few minutes.

"It just…disappeared into thin air." Suddenly the air was alive with frightened chatter.

"It was just like a spirit!"

"It's probably gone for reinforcements!"

"Nick was right!"

The crowd turned to her, fear and suspicion written on every face.

"Kitty, you _knew_!" Piper exclaimed.

"Now you've put us all in danger!" Someone else called.

Kitty wished she too could disappear. "I didn't… I thought…" She trailed off; there was nothing to say.

"Nick left because of you," Piper hissed. "And he was right all along, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Kitty whispered, miserable.

Piper's eyes narrowed coldly. "I think you need to leave," she said. "You obviously aren't acting in the best interests of our group."

Cries of agreement sounded throughout the crowd.

"We don't want you!"

"Traitor!"

Without another word, Kitty gathered up her things and slunk away from the jeering group. She was on her own now.

OoOoOoOoOoO

I rematerialized in the drab grey room I had been summoned to nearly a week before. The same group of spirits gathered around the pentacle, their boiling auras belying their lack-luster appearances. This time, however, a thick, choking smell pervaded the air. It fizzed painfully in my lungs, like breathing soda pop. I scoured the room for the source of this unpleasantness. As I thought, Nouda lounged on a gargantuan throne nearby. Raw magic rolled off his body, singeing my skin. His lidless eyes stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the proceedings around him.

The mustached woman, ((whose aura was a nauseating shade of pink, if you're interested,)) gave me a crafty leer.

"Time's up djinni," she said, "Where are the humans hiding?"

"Good morning to you, too," I said, tipping an imaginary hat. "Truly, it's a privilege to work for such courteous and pleasant employers."

Her face wrinkled in annoyance. "Cut the back-talk and give us the information. Lord Nouda grows impatient."

Impatient was not the word I would have chosen for Nouda's current mood. More like flaccid, or listless. Or maybe bored out of his mind.

Nonetheless, if I told them where Kitty and her friends were, they would all be dead within the hour. I couldn't have that. I had known for several days now that if I couldn't find a way out of my command, I was simply going to have to refuse it. Kitty deserved to live; I wanted her to live—even if I would no longer be around to see it myself.

"Sorry, mate," I said, "I can't help you. I have no idea where she is."

"You lie," The woman hissed, "I saw you in their company."

"Well, you can never be too sure of your senses these days. Especially when you're getting so old and infirm. You probably saw a band of ally cats, or a flock of pigeons."

"I command you to tell us where the humans are hiding."

"Well, I've heard there's a large population of them in China. I've met some rather interesting ones in South America as well, a couple hundred years back, and they may still be kicking around. In fact, you'll find them polluting most continents."

"Where is_ Kitty Jones_?" she all but shrieked.

I crossed my arms resolutely. "I'm not telling."

Suddenly the woman's face twisted into a malicious grin. "Yes, we thought you might say that." She gestured to the little bald spirit. "Orestes?"

Orestes hurriedly pushed through the circle of spirits, clutching a heavy tome that was nearly as large as he was.

"Find us the section on the Shriveling Fire," the woman said. The bald spirit began flipping madly through the pages, holding the book awkwardly in one hand.

A booming voice broke in on our proceedings.

"You would give up your life for a human, little djinni?" Nouda asked, his eyes suddenly fixed on me.

I didn't answer.

Nouda's eyes narrowed into furious slits. "You are a fool. After a millennia of cruel enslavement, you should rejoice at the downfall of humanity."

"I do," I said, "For the most part. But there is a particular human…"

"And you allow her to enslave you willfully!" He smashed his fist down on the arm of his golden throne, leaving a deep dent.

"It's not enslavement," I protested, "It's friendship."

"There is no friendship between spirit and human. She would not sacrifice herself for you."

I thought of Kitty's journey to the Other Place: how she had risked her health and youth; had put her life in my hands. "Yes, she would," I said, my voice filled with confidence.

"All humans," Nouda said, "Are grasping, selfish cowards. You are mightily deceived to think otherwise. Each and every one of them deserves the fate that is coming to them." With that, he let his head roll back against the back of the throne and returned to staring at the ceiling.

"Hey I've found it!" the bald Orestes cried. He was teetering under the weight of the old text, which was flipped open to a passage written in angry red ink. The mustached woman peered over his shoulder.

"Read it!" She commanded.

Slowly, carefully, the short little spirit began to chant the 56 lines that would presumably be the last thing I would ever hear. It was disappointing really, going out this way. I'd always hoped for something a bit more glamorous, like, say, cornered by five thousand afrits in the middle of some gory battle, or diving headfirst into a fiery volcano, or even struck by lightning while flying at the head of an army of djinn over the Aegean sea. But if this was to be my ultimate fate, so be it.

Orestes was picking up speed now. He flew over the ancient phrases with perfect enunciation, swaying back and forth; one with the power of the spell. It really looked as though he was going to say the whole thing correctly. He must have practiced.

Suddenly, I was blessed by copious amounts of luck. The pint-sized spirit swayed a little too far towards me. He lost his balance; the heavy book in his hands dragged him down, and with limbs a-flailing, he tumbled right into my pentacle.

I tend to pride myself on my quick thinking, but for a moment I could do nothing but stare at the little man sprawled at my feet. Then I jumped into action and swallowed him whole. ((Don't look at me like that. He was about to burn me to a cinder.))

He wasn't my only summoner, but with him gone, the threads of the spell were too weak to hold me to the Earth any longer. I let the currents of the Other Place bear me away, as six Detonations blasted the pentacle where I had stood a moment before.


	9. Bleak Horizon

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

**A/N: Allendra, Silvertrumpet, Duckweed, LM, Nari, thanks for the reviews and the well-wishes! Dollery, thank you for reviewing, I love hearing what people think of the story! You bring up some good questians. First of all the reason the Spirits haven't left London is because there isn't anywhere else to go. The whole country has been evacuated, and with all the water of the English Channel separating them from Europe, the spirits aren't going to be leaving any time soon. On top of that, we have Nouda's rather depressed attitude. As for your second questian, you're probably right, but since Nouda is such a strong spirit, it would be a long time before we see him start to weaken. Hope that answers your questians! Happy Reading!**

Nicholas Drew blinked the nervous sweat from his eyes as he knelt before Nouda's golden throne. A horde of lesser spirits surrounded him, grotesque leers painted on their withered human faces. An ugly blonde spirit circled him like a hungry wolf, the heels of her bright green pumps clicking sharply against the floor with each step.

"…And you said your name was Nicholas Drew?" said the spirit.

"Yes ma'am…or sir…ma'am?" Nick spluttered incoherently.

The spirit waved a hand. "Gender is irrelevant to us. What _is_ relevant is your offer to tell us the location of Kitty Jones and her people."

"Yes…um…there are stipulations, of course..."

Suddenly Nouda's thundering voice broke in on the proceedings. "Why must you insist on bargaining with this stammering mud-creature, Atotoztli?" His scaly face puckered in annoyance, and a gust of hot steam rolled off his skin with a menacing hiss.

"Patience, my Lord, patience." Atotoztli replied, raising her palms in a placating gesture. Nick, meanwhile, had turned green with fright.

"Now, what were your demands again?" Atotoztli asked softly, leaning in towards him. He scrambled backwards, a choked squeak forcing itself from his lips. The spirit gave a low chuckle.

"I want to leave England," he finally managed, "I want to be escorted to Dover and given a boat of some kind so I can get out of this living hell. And I want you to promise not to harm me."

The spirit smiled cruelly. "That seems like an awful lot of work. You are in our power here; what makes you think we won't consume your flesh right this moment?"

The colour drained from Nick's face. He clasped his hands together to hide their tell-tale tremble. "If you kill me, you'll never find the rest of the humans."

Atotoztli tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Alright, human. You'll have your deal. Tell us where the rest of the humans are hiding and I guarantee you safe passage from England. Now where are they?"

Nick cleared his throat.

"There's this old warehouse north of town…"

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kitty tapped her silver blade thoughtfully against the sole of her shoe. She'd been sitting in the tall grass all morning. Cool dew was soaking into her pants and a nasty fly was buzzing mercilessly around her head, yet she had not moved so much as an inch. Her eyes were fixed on the rabbit hole in front of her; she knew it was down there, and her protesting stomach would not let her leave until it poked out its fuzzy little nose and met with the business end of Kitty's knife.

_If I can't feed myself for one stupid day, how am I going to survive the rest of my life like this?_

Suddenly a tuft of soft grey fur poked over the rim of the burrow. The rabbit sniffed the air cautiously; its long ears wriggled back and forth, listening for an approaching predator.

Kitty's hand tightened around the knife.

Before she could spring on the small mammal, something drifting on the horizon caught her eye. A column of billowing black smoke, rising up from somewhere in the vicinity of…

_North London…no, it can't be…_

With a strangled cry, Kitty sprang to her feet. The small grey rabbit ducked for cover as she leapt over the rabbit hole and took off along the river bank, grey-streaked hair flying behind her like a thundercloud.

She could smell it before she saw it. A smoldering, charcoal smell, like the glowing ashes of a bonfire, the strong hot scent of molten metal, and the sharp tang of magic pervading all. She stepped into the courtyard, blinking away the floating flakes of grey ash that caught in her eyelashes. The warehouse was gone.

In its place was a jumbled heap of metal scraps and fine black ash. Heart in throat, Kitty desperately yanked away a few pieces of debris, both hoping and dreading to find a familiar face beneath. But there was nothing. No one. They had all been consumed by flame, or else by spirits.

She shook her head, as if to deny the reality around her.

"Bartimaeus, how could you?" she breathed. Suddenly she felt overwhelmingly dizzy. She sank to her knees. Alone. Betrayed. Hopeless.

She tried to summon up a sliver of her old fighting spirit, but all she felt was the echo of the empty ache in her chest.

Suddenly her ears caught the soft sound of bare feet on gravel. She turned.

"You look unhappy," said Ptolemy.

Kitty stared for a moment at her unexpected visitor, then turned away. She couldn't stand looking at his face any more. Not now.

"I'll bet I do," she mumbled.

"Are you not glad to see me?" He asked, "It's been awhile."

Kitty glowered. "We could have used your help a while back. Where did you get off to?"

"You were getting on just fine without me." She could hear the smile in the apparition's voice, "That's why I'm here now. You seem to have lost your way."

Kitty let out a long breath. "I've lost far more than that."

"Not quite as much as you think."

"What are you talking about?" Kitty didn't like the gleam of amusement in his eye—it made her want to punch him in the face, ghost or not.

"Kitty, you need to summon Bartimaeus," the young Egyptian said, avoiding her question.

"Bartimaeus _has_ been summoned, as you can see." She gestured to the smoking ruin around her.

"You need to summon Bartimaeus before some one else does," he continued, "Just do it. You'll understand eventually."

Kitty crossed her arms. "Even if I wanted to, which at the moment, I decidedly do _not_, I couldn't. There aren't any summoning materials around here. All of the incense and chalk is in the summoning chambers of parliament itself."

"Well, obviously you need to go there."

"I _can't_."

"Yes you can."

"I don't want to."

"Yes you do."

Kitty groaned. "You are impossible. I'm crazy to be listening to you—crazy!"

And yet twenty minutes later she was on her way.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The entrance to the London Underground yawned beneath her like the throat of a hungry beast. Kitty stood at the top of a flight of concrete stairs, staring into the inky darkness.

"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight." She mumbled to herself.

As much as Kitty didn't fancy a walk through the subway tunnels in absolute darkness, the idea of running into a spirit was far worse. By taking the Underground, she could walk all the way to parliament unnoticed—in theory at least.

Her mind was made up. With a resolute step, Kitty descended the stairs and was swallowed by shadows.


	10. Road of Trials

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the Property of Jonathan Stroud

**A/N:** **Exams are over. Whew, that was the most intense week of my life! Thank you reviewers, I enjoy your positive feedback and probing questions! Lady Noir: your review made my day! Allendra and LM, thanks for your comments! Drollery and Nari: I'll try to answer you're interesting questions, but be forewarned that what I'm about to say isn't relevant to the plot of Monomyth. ****The Brits haven't exactly endeared themselves to the rest of the world, with all of their Empire ambitions. After the Revolt, most of the survivors, (ie. people who weren't in London) escaped as refugees, probably to France mostly. They are permitted to stay there, seeing as their isn't much else of a choice. None of the world powers are interested in taking down Nouda. For one thing, he is extremely powerful and it would be very difficult to destroy him, and secondly, no one's in a hurry to see the British Empire back in full form. I imagine there is a bit of international chaos... but if the US tries to take over Canada they're gonna have to deal with me! ;) **

**By the way, I'm going to be away, travelling in Europe for the next two weeks, so the next update will not be until September. I'll get it up as soon as I can. (Sorry for the looong author's note)**

* * *

"If I ever get out of here, I'll kill him," Kitty muttered, gingerly brushing the gravel from her stinging hands. Her foot had yet again caught the edge of the rails and sent her sprawling on her face for the fifth time. Her palms were beginning to throb, and she was pretty sure she had cut her face at some point during her long journey. It was impossible to say for certain—the darkness was impenetrable.

Kitty lurched to her feet and began to pick her way through the tunnel, running a hand along the rough concrete wall to keep herself oriented. She mumbled her thoughts out loud as she went, listening to the sound of her own voice. She had to break the silence to drive away the eerie phantom noises that arose in the absence of all other sound.

"Yes, I'll definitely kill him. Slowly and painfully." She smirked as she imagined Bartimaeus falling into a crumpled heap as she whacked him repeatedly with a shovel.

Kitty's pleasant reverie screeched to a halt as she spotted a pale light ahead. That couldn't be the exit, could it? She had been walking for less than an hour. Cautiously, she pulled her Inferno Stick from her pocket. She slid her fingers over the smooth surface of the weapon, feeling reassured by its solid presence. Slowly, she edged towards the beckoning glow.

The light was emitting from a small lantern resting between the tracks. Strewn haphazardly around it were such diverse items as fridge magnets, old nails, bits of tarnished silver jewelry, horse shoes, cast iron pots and pans, and a variety of dried and rotting herbs. Most interesting of all was a pile of old sofa cushions where a small man, bearded and filthy, reclined with eyes half-shut. Kitty stared at him. Another survivor?

His sunken yellow cheeks and emaciated frame gave him the look of a week-old corpse, yet upon hearing Kitty's quiet footfalls, he sprang to his feet with remarkable vitality.

"Who are you?" He demanded, brandishing a heavy iron butcher's knife.

Thinking fast, Kitty dropped her weapon and held up her arms in a passive gesture. "My name's Kitty Jones. It's alright—I'm a human too. Have you been living down here by yourself all this time?"

The man's wild eyebrows knit together in an expression of deep suspicion. "Human, eh? Let's be sure. Bring me one of those pans over there."

With a shrug, Kitty lifted the iron pan and laid it gently by the man's side. She raised her hands for his inspection. "See? No burn marks."

"Hmmm." The man frowned. "I guess you are. Said your name was Kitty, did you? I'm Joe Barnaby."

Kitty shook his hand.

"Do you live down here?" She asked. For Kitty, an hour was more than enough of this living burial. She could hardly imagine surviving a year.

"Yep. Been all alone since the last of me mates died. You're the first human face I've seen in over a month." He seemed unusually flippant about the fact.

Kitty was mildly impressed. "Really? Maybe you and I should stick together. I've been on my own for the past few days, and I've barely managed to find enough food to keep going. I can't fathom what you must have gone through."

Joe Barnaby shrugged. "Been eatin' rats mostly now-a-days. You've got to takes what you've gots." He ran his fingers thoughtfully along the edge of his blade. "Been awhile since I had anythin' proper to eat."

"I can imagine," said Kitty, glancing at his skeletal form.

"When the others where still around we ate well, we did." He continued.

"I suppose you must have." Kitty was getting impatient. She had a djinni to summon.

"Lots of meats. Juicy tender meats."

"Umm. Well, it was nice talking to you. I ought to go…"

A flash of silver cut through the air by her head. She dove to the side, barely avoiding the slicing arc of Joe's blade.

"Back then, if we gots too hungry, we'd draw lots. Loser was dinner for the evening." Joe's eyes took on a crazed gleam as he swung his knife again. Kitty scrambled backwards, fumbling for her Inferno Stick.

"After all 'em got eaten up I thought I'd starve. Guess I was wrong, eh?" He stabbed his blade downwards, just as Kitty screamed out the command. The Inferno Stick fired, bright flames burst from the end, the force of it flinging Joe Barnaby into the opposite wall. He lay in a tangled heap, blue fire licking at his unmoving form.

Kitty rose, panting, to her feet. What the hell? Had she just narrowly escaped being eaten by some insane cannibal? When faced with true danger, she decided, the nastier side of humanity came out. She picked up the small gas lantern and continued down the tunnel, grateful for the shadow-banishing light that now lit her path.

She had a djinni to summon.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"You swore you would help me leave," Nick cried. The spirit before him smiled nastily.

"That only exposes your unbelievable degree of stupidity, little human. Why should I help you now that you have nothing to offer us?" She rubbed her pale blonde mustache thoughtfully. "You should have made your bargain with Lord Nouda himself. He tends to keep his word."

"I told you where they were!" Nick's voice rose in desperation.

"Your information was worthless. All of the humans escaped."

"That's _your_ problem. I held up my end of the deal."

Atotoztli's eyes were hard as diamond. "You, my pathetic little friend, are as human as your companions. I'm sure Lord Nouda would appreciate your flesh as much as any of theirs. If you continue to irritate me, perhaps I shall give you to him as a substitute."

Nick paled. "No! Please…" He scrambled back, tripped over his shoelaces, and cracked the back of his head on the cold marble floor. Atotoztli smirked down at him.

"Yes, I thought so. Consider your continued existence to be our payment for your information. Now get out of here before I get bored and decide to destroy you."

Nick needed no second invitation. He leapt to his feet and flew down the marble corridor, kicked open the heavy oak door and fled into the night.

He ran blindly, his only thought to get away before the spirits could come after him. Over a bridge, down an alleyway, past an old Tube station…

The wind was suddenly knocked out of him as he collided with a streak of grey running up the steps.

Nick lay where he had fallen, frozen in fear. What was that, a spirit? The grey shape held up a glowing lantern and peered at him through its golden light.

"Nick? Is that you?" It was Kitty.

Kitty. Nick winced. If she knew what he had done she would kill him as surely as any of the spirits would.

"Look Kitty," He said carefully, "I—" He was cut off by a cry of joy and a tight squeeze round his middle.

"I'm glad you're okay! I'm so sorry about what happened with Bartimaeus. You were right—it wasn't safe to have him with us. He got resummoned, and Nick—everyone's dead!"

Nick blinked slowly. "You say Bartimaeus was resummoned?"

"I was so stupid."

"And then there was an attack?"

Kitty nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks. Nick's face hardened.

"Well, obviously that foul thing betrayed you. I told you it would."

Kitty sighed. "You were right. But Nick, it's not his fault. He has to do whatever he's commanded to do." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of dirt across her face. "Of course that's not going to stop me from beating him to a pulp when I see him again."

"Yeah, good luck with that. Anyway, I guess I'll be on my way…" Kitty caught his arm as he turned to leave.

"What? You're not going, are you? Were the only humans left, we need to stick together!"

"Well where are you going?" Nick asked, "We're way to close to parliament if you ask me."

OoOoOoOoOoO

"I can't believe we're doing this," Nick muttered.

A cluster of fine magic shops had flourished just across from Parliament Square in the days of London's power, catering to the wealthy magicians who passed by in their limousines on their way to Whitehall. Now they stood empty, coated with an inch-thick layer of dust. Nick leaned in a doorway, staring up the street, watching the mist rise slowly around the Parliament Buildings nearby.

Kitty crouched inside the shop, rooting through the various odds and ends to find the supplies she needed. "Just don't think about it," she warned Nick. She yanked open a drawer a bit too forcefully. A grisly pile of knucklebones spilled out and clattered against the flagstones.

"Hey, what's this?" Kitty pulled something soft from the back of the drawer. A small red silk handkerchief, ornately patterned.

Nick glanced over his shoulder. "What's so interesting about that? Magicians blow their noses too, you know."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "It's not quite what you think." She spread the small scrap of cloth out on the floor, then raised a hand and uttered the command.

"_Makros_!"

There was a pause, then a slight ripple moved through the fabric. Suddenly the four corners stretched outwards like reaching arms as the handkerchief grew larger and larger. The lantern-light glittered off its intricate pattern. It was nearly the size of a bed sheet now, and it floated nearly two feet off the ground. Kitty grinned.

"It's a magic carpet."

Nick stared. "A magic carpet? You mean people fly on those things?"

Kitty nodded. "I didn't know we had any in London. It should certainly come in handy." She stretched out her hand again, speaking the opposite command. The magic carpet obediently returned to its humble existence as a handkerchief. "And it's travel sized for extra convenience!" She folded it neatly and stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans.

"As nice as that is, I'd prefer if we didn't stick around here for too long."

"Okay, okay," said Kitty, continuing her search for summoning supplies.

At last she found what she was looking for. Long sticks of red and white chalk, a small porcelain jar of shaved rowan bark and rosemary, a brass compass and ruler, candles of tapered white wax, sandalwood and frankincense—the tools of summoning.

With deft strokes, she drew the magical symbols on the stone floor. Alternating red and white lines forming the encircled star. She kept it simple—this was Bartimaeus she was talking about, after all. The herbs were scattered, the candles lit, the smoldering incense released its heavy aroma. Kitty squared her shoulders and faced the pentacle.

All that was left was the incantation.


	11. The Beginnings of a Plan

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back from my trip! I spent the last two weeks in Italy, France, and the UK, and had a great time. Europe is such a beautiful place, full of history and interesting architecture. Canada is very bland by comparison. London was especially interesting, because I had the chance to visit some of the places mentioned in this story, and most looked quite different than I had imagined! We had a bit of a fright near the end of our trip because our Airline went bankrupt and we were stranded in London, but we got another flight back so everything is fine now. Nari, Allendra, Lady Noire, Lisette, Drollery, Duckweed, and Shadowfire, thank you for reviewing! Drollery, I think the main reason Kitty reacted the way she did was one, because she had felt guilty about getting him kicked out of the group, and two, because he was a familiar face and she needs some support. Your right though, she doesn't have a very high opinion of him. Happy reading guys!

* * *

The spirits were summoning me again. Their spell pierced through the mists of the Other Place and drew my essence from the amorphous swirl around me. With a touch of fatalistic resignation, I let it drain me from the Other Place.

I had wondered how long it would take for Nouda and his crowd to realize they could just summon me right back up again. I'd clung to a rather futile hope that they would simply loose interest and return to gallivanting on the mortal plane, but apparently that was too much to ask. Honestly, you would think fate herself was out to get me. Reluctantly, I diffused into the pentacle.

And was immediately knocked to my feet as my face made friends with a tightly clenched fist.

"Ow!" I said, rubbing the red mark on the side of my face. "What's with the brutality? Have guys decided to start _fighting_ like humans, now?"

"That was for getting all of my friends killed," said an unexpected voice. I looked up quickly.

"Kitty," I choked out in surprise. ((and relief, despite the bruise I was now sporting.)) "How did you—I mean, what's going on here?"

"We're near Whitehall," Kitty said stiffly. "I snuck all the way down here just so I could summon you. Though I don't know why I bothered."

I got to my feet, keeping a wary eye out for any more right hooks that might happen my way. "Well next time you try to wreak your terrible vengeance upon me, you might want to avoid standing in my pentacle."

Kitty glanced down at her feet, firmly planted within the chalk lines that encircled us. She crossed her arms squarely and favoured me with a smug smile. "Come on, Bartimaeus. We both know you'd never harm a hair on my head."

"Which can't be said of you," I pointed out.

She coloured slightly, but put on a stubborn face. "You deserved it, pretending all this time that you were on my side, when you were really looking for an opportunity to betray us all!"

"Hold up, there," I said. "Maybe I _was_ under the command of Nouda's lackeys, but that's hardly my fault, is it? And I didn't tell them anything, doesn't that count for something?"

Kitty's face darkened. "Oh, you didn't tell them anything did you? That, I suppose, is why there is a big, smoking crater where our hide-out used to be."

"Hey, would I lie to you?" I looked straight into her eyes.

Kitty's brows knitted together in consideration. Then her expression softened. "No, I guess you wouldn't." She sighed. "I'm sorry. If you say it wasn't you, then I believe you."

Now that her fury had passed, I allowed myself to study the girl. She looked as though she'd seen better days. Dirt clung to the damp streaks on her cheeks, and her hair frizzed around her head like a silver halo. The knees of her trousers had torn open and her shoes had practically worn away.

"So what happened?" I asked, "You look like you were hit by a bus."

Kitty grimaced. "Thanks a lot. I crawled twenty miles in the dark just to see you and you're complaining that I don't look fresh enough?"

I grinned. "I didn't say I was complaining. The hobo look suits you." I ducked as Kitty swung another fist my way.

"I thought we agreed not to beat each other up!"

"If you two clowns don't mind, I'd rather not stay here much longer," a young man called from the doorway. It was Nick, looking even less hygienically acceptable than Kitty, if such a thing were possible.

"What's _he_ doing here?" I asked Kitty.

"Watch your tone, demon!" Nick said with an insolent sneer.

I'd probably have marched over there and put him in his place if Kitty hadn't grabbed my arm.

"Shut it guys!" Kitty said. "If we fight each other we'll never survive. We all need to work together if we want to defeat the spirits."

Nick and I both stared. Was she mad?

"Uh, Kitty, how do you plan on doing that?" I ventured. "We don't have a hope in hell of defeating the spirits."

Kitty bit her lip nervously. Then, with an air of solemn gravity, she placed her hands gently on my shoulders and tilted up her chin to look me in the eye.

If I'd had a heart, it would have been beating like mad.

"Bartimaeus," She said softly, cautiously. "There's something I've been keeping from you. I don't exactly know quite why I never told you. It just… It sounded so crazy and I didn't really believe it myself."

"Huh?" I couldn't hear past the random buzzing in my ears. Kitty's sudden proximity put me off my stride and I found myself watching the shapes her mouth made rather than listening to what came out of it.

"Bartimaeus, I've seen him—Ptolemy."

That sure woke me up fast.

"You saw Ptolemy?" I choked out. I think my eyes became round as wagon wheels.

Her hands tightened around my shoulders; her lips twisted into a smile. "Definitely."

"He's dead."

"Even so."

I shook my head. "But… how? Why?"

"That's just it. He sort of appeared to me and told me I had to carry on his work."

I scratched my head. "You mean his book?"

"No, no, I mean his ultimate goal. Peace."

"Peace? And how exactly does he expect you to do that?"

"All he's given me is hints. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with Solomon's ring."

I gave Kitty a hard look.

"So what you're telling me is: you were visited by the ghost of a long-dead Egyptian magician who set you on a quest to overcome the eternal animosity between spirits and humans using only a magic ring? Sounds implausibly metaphysical to me."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Says the shape-shifting djinni from another dimension."

"Okay, but that's different. The connection between Earth and the Other Place are governed by rules and procedures. We don't just pop out of thin air to render our otherworldly wisdom to humanity—contrary to what you seemed to think when you ran into me in that park last week."

Kitty's face reddened. "I was just so glad to see you, I didn't care where you'd come from. And as for Ptolemy, well who knows what the 'rules', as you call them, are between this world and the next. Besides, rules were made to be broken."

"That certainly does seem to be your philosophy."

Kitty sighed in exasperation. ((I seem to have that effect on a lot of people.))

"The point is we need to find that ring. It would give us control of the spirits, right?"

"What would give us control of the spirits?" Nick left his post by the door and wandered towards us. He looked uncommonly eager.

"Do you remember the Seal of Solomon?" Kitty asked. "It's the ring we were looking up at the library. A talisman that puts spirits under the command of the bearer."

Nick rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How powerful is it? Would it work on Nouda?"

"Sure," I said, "Solomon used it to command a thousand djinn at once. The real problem is that we have no idea where it is."

Kitty paced back and forth within the pentacle. "Ptolemy wouldn't have shown it to me if it wasn't around here somewhere. Let's think. Eight years ago it was stolen from the government's vaults. The thief must have been a magician—and a powerful one too."

"And he must have been a rather calculating sort to have kept it hidden all this time." I said.

Further interpolation was cut short by loud creak from outside. The three of us froze like children caught with our hands in the cookie jar. We waited a moment, but nothing happened.

"I'll go check," I offered quietly.

I tread silently across the polished floorboards and slipped out the doorway. A cool gust of wind fanned my face as I stepped into the night. I looked up and down the street, searching for the source of the disturbance.

Cold fingers curled around my neck in an iron grip. A low chuckle drifted against the back of my head.

"Bartimaeus," A voice purred, "How delightful to meet you here!"

"Atotoztli is it?" I said politely, trying in vain to pry her hands off of me.

"Not so fast," She hissed, lifting me an inch off the ground. "You won't slip away this time."

I tried other forms: an eel, a goldfish, an elephant, a porcupine, her grip only strengthened. At last I gave up as my captor rose into the air and flew towards the towering façade of the houses of Parliament, dangling her poor captive by his neck. Far below I could see Kitty's wide-eyed face peering out of the magic shop window, watching as I was borne away.


	12. A Djinni in Distress

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

A/N: First of all, a big thanks to Lady Noir for catching a typo in the last chapter! It should be fixed now. Secondly, thank you everyone for your reviews, specifically Lisette, Duckweed, Shadowfire, Allendra, and Nari (Nari, btw no I didn't get to see them, unfortunately. Our time in the UK was a bit spoiled by our desperate search for a flight home to Canada!) I love you guys, and happy reading! Oh, and my apologies for reuniting B and K only to tear them apart once more. It doesn't last long, as you are about to find out!

* * *

"Nick, hurry!" Kitty pushed the blonde man ahead of her as she sprinted over the slick pavement. "They're getting away!"

"Are you mad?" Nick gasped, clutching his sides, "If we go in there we'll be killed! Let's just leave him and find that ring by ourselves."

Kitty clenched her fists angrily. "Nicholas Drew," she spat, "I am not leaving Bartimaeus to die. Now come on!" She caught him firmly by the elbow and dragged him onwards.

The austere gothic face of the Houses of Parliament frowned down upon them. In the shadow of an ornate archway something shifted and stretched. Kitty stopped dead in her tracks. The semblance of a tall thin man was lounging in the doorway, fiddling with a ragged tie that hung about its neck. With an air of lazy indifference, it raised its head to scan the premises, running its eyes up and down the web of streets that converged at the foot of the building.

The creature stiffened as its eyes fell upon Kitty. It blinked, rubbed its eyes, and stared at her again. For a moment Kitty stood still, staring back at it. Finally she stood up straight and spoke.

"You there, let me in!"

Nick jerked back in surprise at her brazen tone. He probably thought she'd lost it. The spirit pulled itself to its feet and stalked towards them.

"Let me go!" Nick cried out. He thrashed about like a fish out of water as he tried to escape Kitty's grasp.

Oh no you don't, she thought, digging her fingernails into his arm. The spirit stood before them.

"What's all this?" It wheezed through its long droopy nose. "You kids got a death wish or something? I never thought I'd see the day where humans would actually line up to be eaten."

Kitty lifted her chin and stared the creature down. "I'm not a human, you idiot."

Nick choked. The spirit blinked a few times and stopped tugging on its tie. "Sorry, what?"

"I'm Ninhursag, marid of the forth level. And this here is a pathetic little human I discovered across the road. I'm bringing him to Nouda. Now out of my way."

The spirit raised two bushy brown eyebrows. "Well I've certainly never heard of you. Never seen you around, either. You must that human girl Atotoztli wants to find so bad." It grinned widely, revealing two rows of loose brown teeth.

"Don't be a fool," Kitty replied, "Just take a look at my aura. Does it look human to you?"

The spirit made no answer, but Kitty noticed his eyes unfocus as he skimmed through the seven planes. She saw his smile falter as the dazzling rainbow-coloured lightshow burst into his view.

"Believe me now?"

"Well…" The spirit wrung its hands indecisively, flicking its gaze between the rather unimpressive looking young girl before him, and the wild swirl of light that danced around her like the northern lights.

"I don't like being kept waiting," Kitty warned. The spirit bit its lip.

"I'll have to ask the others about this," it decided finally.

Kitty shook her head and slipped her hand into her pocket. Her fist wrapped tightly around her Inferno Stick.

"Move!" She shouted, simultaneously firing the weapon. The jet of flame burst through the thin fabric of her pocket and blasted against the archway above the spirit's head. It jumped to the side as mortar and brick rained down in a cloud of dust.

"Fine, fine, go ahead!" It cried, raising its arms in surrender.

"That's what I thought," Kitty said smugly as she dragged a wailing Nicholas Drew towards the waiting door.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The situation I now found myself in was so mind-numbingly familiar that I'm not even going to waste time describing it to you, except to say that it involved the same old enemies gathered in the same old circle, lusting after the same old thing—namely my blood. How tiresome.

"By chance I found him down by Parliament Square," Atotoztli was boasting, her mustache bristling proudly under the flickering lights. "He tried to slip away, but I had him fast."

Her lord looked unimpressed. "You bore me with your trivialities Atotoztli, what is it to me that you caught the djinni again?"

Atotoztli's mouth puckered into an unattractive frown. "But my lord, we must have our revenge! It's the reason you lead us to this dimension in the first place!"

"I suggest we all just forgive and forget," I interjected. "You know what they say, 'An eye for an eye leaves everybody blind.'"

"Shut up," a chorus of onlookers intoned.

Nouda shook his scaly head. ((I watched this motion with interest. His head was so absolutely massive with horns, fangs, tumors, and other baubles, that it made you wonder if it would snap off and roll away if he moved it too quickly. It would certainly have made my life easier if it had.)) "It was for revenge on our masters that we came here," he said in his booming voice. "This is nothing but a spirit of the lowest sort. However," he raised a claw in a magnanimous gesture, "If it brings you any pleasure then you may squish the little creature."

The crowd of spirits cheered.

"I'd rather you didn't." I said dryly.

"I say we drown him in the Thames!" a spindly old spirit called, shaking his fist in the air.

"No, let's roast him over a spit!" cried the spirit beside him.

"We should tickle him to death!" was the suggestion of a particularly sadistic-looking woman in a tweed suit.

As my would-be executioners debated over their modus operandi, a flicker of movement from the gallery high above caught my eye. As I watched, a silver frosted head peeked over the railing and a pair of dark eyes met my own.

I gave Kitty a furtive wave.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Kitty's heart skipped as the djinni's eyes met her own. He was surrounded by spirits, including Lord Nouda himself, and if any of them wanted to get out of there alive she would have to act fast. Nick leaned over her shoulder to view the scene below.

"Its hopeless," he complained, "There's at least twenty spirits there; they'd burn us to a crisp! Besides, we'll never get down there in time. Face it, we can't do this."

Kitty's eyes remained fixed on Bartimaeus. Her hand toyed with something in her back pocket.

"We have to jump," she said finally.

Nick froze. "What?" he cried.

"Jump!" She yelled. She grabbed a fistful of Nick's shirt and hurled herself over the railing of the gallery. The room flashed past her as she plunged through the air. She squeezed her eyes shut as Nick's terrified screams assaulted her ears. Her hands fumbled with the handkerchief in her pocket until she was clenching it before her. She spoke; the wind whipped the command word out of her mouth.

And suddenly she wasn't falling anymore.

She opened her eyes and grinned broadly as the magic carpet spiraled gracefully around the perimeter of the room. Beside her, Nick turned green and clutched the fabric between his sweaty palms.

"Cheer up Nick," she laughed as the carpet swooped down to rescue the cornered djinni.

That's when they were spotted.

"Up there!" a spirit snapped.

Kitty careened to the right as a Convulsion sailed towards her. It shot past her head to collide with an elegant chandelier, shaking it violently until the chain snapped and the fixture plummeted to the floor. Suddenly the air was alive with magic. The carpet danced and whirled though the air to avoid the colourful blasts of light on all sides.

"How did they get in here?" She heard someone yell.

She directed the carpet downwards, barreling towards Bartimaeus and his circumference of captors. The djinni stood watching the chaos with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. Dodging a suspicious burst of purple magic, Kitty reached out for him.

The djinni's hand wrapped around her own, and she pulled him up onto the moving carpet as he shot off a few Detonations for cover.

"Dramatic entrance," Bartimaeus said approvingly.

Kitty smirked. "Nope. Dramatic exit." And with that, they smashed through the nearest window.

Kitty covered her eyes as fragments of glass rained down on her. Behind her, the spirits' dissonant howls of rage made the hair on her arms stand up. She peeked over her shoulder as several spirits launched themselves into the air and hurtled towards the magic carpet. Nouda, she noticed, was not among them. The great demon remained seated in his golden throne, his fiery eyes fixed, not on his escaping prisoner, but on Kitty herself. She shivered and urged the carpet on.

The airborne spirits attempted to give chase, but the magic carpet was well made. It sailed over the spires of the Parliament Buildings, picking up speed and leaving the pursuers far behind.

"I think we've lost them," Bartimaeus said finally, yelling to be heard over the wail of the wind as it rushed past them.

"Give me some warning next time!" Nick shrieked. He picked a shard of glass out of his skin and waved it in front of Kitty's nose.

"Oops. Sorry." Kitty allowed herself to relax as they gained ground, sailing over a sea of red clay chimney pots. "I had to get out of there fast. I almost got my head blasted off!"

"The fact that you didn't comes as a bit of a surprise," Bartimaeus said, "Considering that Nouda was there. I wonder why he left you alone."

"Maybe he expects his lackeys to do all the work. He certainly had enough of them on my tail. The things I do for you!"

"Well you know," Bartimaeus said, resettling himself on the carpet, "You could have just resummoned me and avoided all the fuss. I wouldn't have objected."

Kitty poked him in the side. "You're just mad because this time I'm saving you. Like a shining knight rescuing a damsel in distress!"

"Hah! You forgot, admit it!"

"So maybe I did," Kitty sniffed.

"Well, good job at any rate." The djinni ducked his head as a pigeon sailed past. "You know for a moment there I thought you'd decided to end it all; I should've guessed you'd have a magic carpet up your sleeve. I haven't seen one of these since the fall of the Ottoman Empire."

"I picked it up from that magic shop. I figured it would make it easier to get around. Speaking of which, where are we going?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Are you joking? Now that we have some transportation, we can finally get out of London. I think we could even get across the channel on this thing."

"Not yet," said Kitty, "Not until we find that ring."

"This is our chance!" Nick cried, "We have to get out while we still can. You don't even know where the Seal is!"

"I'm pretty sure we can figure it out. We're supposed to figure it out, remember?"

Nick scowled. "Fine, if you're so smart, then where is it?"

Kitty batted her hair out of her eyes and considered. "There are plenty of magical items in Westminster Abbey or the National Museum. Could it be hidden there? Or maybe Devereaux took it?"

"Not Devereaux," Bartimaeus said, "He was totally inept. I'd guess that it's in the personal collection of one of the more powerful magicians. We're looking for someone who had access to the government's vaults; maybe one of Devereaux' friends. He must have been a behind-the-scenes sort of person. After all, he'd gained an incredibly powerful tool, yet he kept it concealed all this time instead of using it."

Kitty shrugged. "If I had to guess, I'd say that sounds like Makepeace."

Bartimaeus nodded. "Exactly. So the first thing we do is fly down to Makepeace's mansion and—" The djinni stopped suddenly. His normally olive skin turned the colour of pale grey ash.

"What's wrong?" Kitty asked.

"Uh," Bartimaeus ran a nervous hand through his dark hair. "We might have a spot of trouble searching Makepeace's place."


	13. Okay, Now What?

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Triology is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Hey guys, I have an annoucement. Lady Noir has agreed to be my beta! So a great big thank you to her! She's a very skilled proofreader! :)

Nari, Allendra, Lisette, and Duckweed, thank you so much for your reviews, they give me the encouragement to keep going. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Makepeace's mansion—or more accurately, the scorched bit of property where Makepeace's mansion had once stood—looked as if the battle of Armageddon had just raged through it. Twice. The angry mountain of grey rubble was still smoking in places, and the very blades of grass had been reduced to heaps of fine charcoal. The now-blackened archway that had once formed the doorway to the house stood supportless, framing the ruin like a portal to Hell. It was the only thing left standing—and by that, I mean the only thing left standing on the_ entire block._

Who would have guessed that such a little spark could have created such a big fire? I mean, it wasn't quite the Great Fire of Rome or anything, but still, it was pretty impressive considering that all this destruction had started out as a smoldering patch on a humble couch cushion.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bold line of Kitty's eyebrows shoot up in incredulity at the scene before her. "Well," She said, turning towards me, "You certainly did a thorough job."

"I try."

"Great, just great," Nick whined, "We'll _never_ find it now."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Nick, it wouldn't hurt to show a little optimism once in a while. We've already come this far; we'll find the Seal."

"We'll be sifting through this mess with a sieve for years before we find it!"

"It wouldn't take all that long, we'll split up, form a search grid and—"

"Actually," I interrupted, "Though I appreciate your systematic approach, I can make this way easier on all of us."

Under my companions' questioning glances, I cupped my hands together and formed a small glowing sphere between my palms. A cheery tomato-red colour swept over its smooth blue-green surface as it reacted to the magic that hung around me. Kitty and Nick peered over my shoulders.

"There's nothing there," Nick said petulantly.

"You're right," I said, "Let's just give up. Obviously I have no idea what I'm talking about." Nick blinked. Perhaps he thought I was serious. "It's a Pulse you idiot," I growled, "Of course you can't see it; it only exists on the seventh plane. Which is a shame because this is pretty nice craftsmanship, if I do say so myself."

The small sphere bobbed gently in midair as I released it and stepped back. No longer in proximity to my aura, the bright colouring faded back to its original blue-green.

"We can follow it through the house until it detects a high concentration of magic," I explained, "That way we'll have some idea of where to start."

At my signal, the Pulse floated towards the burnt-out house. I followed at a distance, careful to keep from getting too close and causing a false alarm. Kitty and Nick trailed behind me, slogging through three feet of ash and tripping over charcoal-covered beams. We hunted through the entire house: the sooty entrance hall, now open to the sky, the broken remains of the kitchen, recognizable only by the grimy refrigerator that lay topped over on its side, the heap of cracked bricks that signified where the fireplace had once stood. Nothing inspired so much as a yellow speck on the surface of the turquoise Pulse.

I was just about ready to give up, when the Pulse suddenly quivered in midair. It shot through the colour spectrum: first yellow, then orange, red, and finally a deep, pure indigo.

"Got it," I said triumphantly.

"What? Where?" Kitty cried. Her eyes skimmed across the rubble, searching for a sign.

"Here," I pointed to the spot over which the Pulse hovered. "Right under this door."

A heavy studded iron door had fallen from its hinges and now lay across the floor like an iron carpet, concealing something of great magical potency beneath its freezing aura. How delightfully convenient.

The metal slab gave a brassy clang as Kitty kicked at it. "This is iron, isn't it?" She asked me.

"It sure is," I replied, "Have fun moving it."

Kitty wrinkled her nose in annoyance, but I was serious. There was really nothing I could do. Kitty and Nick would have to manage this by themselves.

Well, might as well make myself comfortable. I sat cross-legged in the shade of a heap of charred cinderblocks and watched the ensuing spectacle.

The pair of humans strained against the weight of the door. Nick's face turned a becoming shade of magenta under the exertion, and ropy purple veins throbbed in his temples. The door budged a little; they were making progress.

When they had finally managed to raise the metal slab a few inches off the ground, Kitty's strength suddenly gave out. The door slipped from her hands and crushed Nick's fingers beneath its weight. With a very inappropriate oath, he yanked them out and stuck them in his mouth.

"Bravo, bravo!" I cried, clapping appreciatively. Nick shot me a dark glare.

"Are your fingers broken?" Kitty asked with concern. Nick shook his head.

"We'll never be able to lift it this way," he mumbled, "We need some tools or something."

He walked a little ways off, then returned with a long sturdy plank. He laid it over the remains of a broken stool and wedged one end beneath the door, to form a primitive lever.

"Come on Kitty," Nick said, "Help me lift this thing."

The two leaned hard on the end of the plank, and slowly the door began to rise. They levered it up off the ground and let it fall with a dull thud a few feet to the side.

"Well what do you know?" I said, "The boy_ is_ good for something!"

"Bartimaeus, look at this!" Kitty said, leaning over the spot where the door had once lain.

Beneath a few scraps of burnt carpet and a fine layer of ash lay a small trapdoor, embedded into the stone floor. Above us the pulse buzzed and bobbed; the magical signal was even stronger now, without the insulation of the think layer of iron.

"Shall we see where this leads?" I said.

Slowly I raised the lid of the trapdoor, ignoring the protesting creak of its rusty hinges. The three of us stared down into the opening.

Only darkness met our eyes. It was impossible to see where the tunnel ended. I could just barely make out the top rungs of a ladder that plunged down into the endless black.

"I'm not going down there, no way." Nick said, growing pale.

"It's okay, Nick, you've done enough." Kitty said reassuringly. She touched my shoulder. "You and me then?"

OoOoOoOoOoO

No light touched the room at the bottom of the ladder, giving Kitty the odd sensation that she had suddenly been blinded, and was now surrounded by strange forces that crept quietly around her, seeing, but unseen. She shivered and clung tightly to Bartimaeus' hand.

"Need a little light?" The djinni asked. His playful tone was comforting.

"Yes please!"

A small light flickered on the tip of his finger, illuminating his face.

"Let's see what Makepeace kept down here, eh?" He let the magic light drift from his finger. It rose up to the low ceiling, casting a dim light on the room around them.

This underground chamber had mostly escaped the fire that had ravaged the floors above it. Tall, wrought-iron candelabras bearing thin wax tapers lined the perimeter of the room. Shelves of dark stained walnut rose almost to the ceiling, lined with dusty tomes streaked with mold. On the upper shelves, various demon specimens buzzed angrily against the heavy glass jars that contained them. An armchair upholstered in expensive red silk sat invitingly to Kitty's left, and at the far end of the room was an ornately carved wardrobe.

"It's a workroom of some sort," Kitty said. "I can't say I see anything particularly suspicious."

Bartimaeus scratched his chin and studied the entrapped spirits. "There are a few high level djinn up there, but nothing that would have given off such a strong magical signal. There's something else here, hiding."

Kitty took a step further into the room. "Well, then we search for it, right? Maybe you can make another P—"

She stumbled as the floor suddenly trembled beneath her feet. The candles burst simultaneously into flame.

"Intruders…" hissed a deep voice that seemed to echo from all around them.

Kitty clutched her scraped elbow. "Bartimaeus, what's happening?" she cried.

"Leave now or suffer death!" the sonorous voice threatened.

Bartimaeus caught her hand and helped her to her feet. She grabbed his shoulder for support as another tremor threatened to knock her to the ground.

"It looks like this room has a guardian," he said.

"A what?"

"A guardian. A spirit that inhabits an area and protects it from outsiders. It must be Indefinitely Confined somewhere around here."

"Prepare for death!" The guardian boomed.

A force of seismic proportions slammed through the room, making Kitty's teeth clack together. The candle stands toppled over and rolled along the floor, setting the ancient books ablaze. Bartimaeus wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her from the flaming sheets of paper that rained down upon them.

The shuddering rose to a thundering crescendo. The specimen jars fell from the shelves and shattered against the floor. Hideous shadows with gaping jaws rose from the glass shards and bore down upon them.

The Egyptian boy leapt to his feet, green magic blasting from his fingertips. The detonation bowled into one of the spirits, searing a hole straight through its middle. The dark shape hung in the air for a moment before dissolving into the air. The second spirit grabbed the djinni round its neck, and the two rose, struggling into the air.

Searing heat suddenly blasted into Kitty's back, knocking her to the ground. She craned her head; a third spirit floated in the air behind her, its arms still outstretched from the Inferno it had sent her way. Kitty stumbled to her feet.

"You'll have to do better than that." She called.

The spirit grabbed the front of her shirt and lifted her up to its eye level. Kitty struggled; her Inferno Stick was just out of reach. Desperately, she pressed her hands against the spirit's vaporous head. It sizzled and smoked as her Resilience ate away at its essence. With a rush of air and a foul smell, the shadowy form dispersed.

Kitty fell to the ground, landing hard on her arm. Biting back the pain, she grabbed hold of her Inferno Stick and finished off Bartimaeus's opponent.

"Hah! I saved you _again_!" She called triumphantly.

"So you did." The djinni looked at her warmly.

The two stumbled to their knees as the room shook even more violently than before. Thin cracks began to form in the walls and roof, and the foundations groaned beneath them.

"The building is about to cave in!" Bartimaeus shouted. Chunks of mortar hailed down on them and the cracks grew wider.

"Quick, in here!" Kitty cried. She pulled Bartimaeus towards the sturdy wardrobe at the end of the room. It looked strong—would it survive the weight of the roof collapsing on top of it? They'd have to risk it, she decided, shutting the door.

In the darkness of the wardrobe, Kitty could feel, rather than see Bartimaeus' presence beside her. She twined her fingers around his as a great roaring thunder signaled the collapse of the ceiling around them.


	14. The Ultimate Boon

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the Property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Duckweed: you wrote a coherent review! You haven't done that since chapter 2; this calls for a celebration of some sort! Lisette: If you think I'm being mean now, just check out _this _chapter! Nari: Don't cry! Here, have an update! Sophia666: Hey, great to see you again! Hope you enjoy this new chapter! And of course, all my gratitude to the amazing Lady Noir for beta-ing this story for me. Happy reading, guys!

* * *

Clogged with rubble, the door refused to open. Kitty and I were trapped together in a tiny wardrobe, and this was a very, very bad thing.

There are all sorts of reasons to dread being confined in a small space—lack of oxygen for example, or claustrophobia for another. My particular reason was far more insidious. It had something to do with the enticing scent of Kitty's skin that clung to me in the darkness, and the soft threads of her hair that seemed to fall across my neck no matter how far back I tried to lean. Worse were the cool fingers that encircled my hand, sending my head into a muddle. I was in trouble and I knew it.

I heard a few distinct clicks as Kitty jiggled the door handle once more. "It won't budge." She said, "We must be buried in debris. We're lucky the wardrobe held up."

I cleared my throat and tried to respond normally. "Yeah, uh, I guess that means we're stuck here… together…"

"Oh don't tell me you're afraid of small spaces," Kitty said, "What about all that djinni-in-a-lamp stuff?"

"What? Oh, you mean like Indefinite Confinement spells. Yeah, that must be it. You'd think I'd be used to that sort of thing by now… hey you know what?" I quickly changed gears, "This whole area is very well guarded—that's a good sign. If the Seal isn't down here somewhere I'll eat my hat."

"Oh? What hat?" There was laughter in her voice.

"Okay, so I'll make a hat, and then eat it. Which is all totally inconsequential because the Seal _is_ down here. It has to be."

Kitty gave a light sigh and ran her thumb thoughtfully along the underside of my wrist. I held my breath and gritted my teeth. Was the girl_ trying_ to torture me?

"Well, hopefully Nick will have the presence of mind to dig us out," she said, ignorant of my distress. "Then you can use another Pulse to find out where exactly the Seal is."

I pulled my hand away from hers and tucked my arms safely across my chest. "Then what, Kitty? What are you planning on doing with the Seal once you have it?"

There was a heavy pause. The floorboards creaked softly as Kitty shifted her weight, turning towards me. Even in the darkness I could feel her eyes on me, as though her gaze was a beam of light cutting through shadow.

"I've been wondering that myself," she said quietly, "You know, at first I thought I'd use it to destroy the spirits; command them to fight against each other or drown themselves in the Thames, or something. But that's not what Ptolemy wanted, is it?" Her face drew near to my own, near enough that I could finally make out the lines of her nose and eyes.

"No, I suppose not."

"And then something happened when we were escaping Parliament this morning. As we were flying away, I looked back behind us—"

"And suddenly turned into a pillar of salt?"

Kitty's eyes narrowed. "Oh, ha-ha. I looked back, and there was Nouda, just sitting there staring at me while we flew away. Why didn't he stop us? What exactly was he thinking at that moment?"

"Most likely he was trying to figure out why a human would risk their life to save a spirit. He spoke to me a while ago, when I refused to tell them where you were. He said it was ridiculous to keep your secret safe when _you_ would have given _me_ up in a heartbeat, and now you've proven him wrong. He's right you know. It's unusual for a human to save a djinni. You're unusual."

"Oh come on Bartimaeus, its not so unusual. We're friends, we care about each other. You've done the same for me on countless occasions."

"That doesn't make you any less extraordinary."

We stood there in the darkness, eyes locked, faces inches apart. It seemed to me that a strange sort of electricity pulsed in the air between us. There was, I realized, nothing I wanted more than to close that small gap that separated our mouths.

Wait a minute, what the hell did I think I was doing? I wrenched myself away from Kitty and the brain-addling forces that surrounded her, falling back hard against the wood panels of the back of the wardrobe.

Imagine my surprise when the panel swung open, depositing me in a heaping sprawl on the floor of a narrow corridor.

For a minute or so, I lay like a stunned fly on the cool flagstones, trying to get my bearings. "Uh, Kitty," I called, "I found something!"

OoOoOoOoOoO

For a moment Kitty's mind spun in uncontrollable circles, oblivious to Bartimaeus's words. Just moments ago, she had been transfixed by the light in the djinni's black eyes. Many expressions Kitty had seen before in those eyes; the cold, mocking hardness that accompanied his more cynical moments, the sharp look that warned of his perceptivity, the brightness of humour and amusement, but never this look of… what was it? Softness, perhaps. It had enveloped her in a warmth that went deeper than skin. The suddenness with which it had been ripped away left her with a confusing hollow ache that caused her to completely miss her companion's clumsy discovery.

"Kitty, come here!" Bartimaeus called again. She started and glanced around with the perplexed air of someone awakening from a coma. She spotted the hole in the back of the wardrobe and stepped out into the low-ceilinged hall beyond.

Bartimaeus sat up slowly and rubbed his elbow. Kitty carefully studied the ceiling while he stared in fascination at the floor.

"What is this?" She asked, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, "A secret passage?"

"Apparently." The djinni rose to his feet and dusted himself off.

At the far end of the tunnel, a faint light flickered, beckoning them with its yellow warmth. Kitty's heart beat faster—was this where the Seal was hidden? A room hidden behind a wardrobe seemed to her to be the perfect place to hide an ancient artifact.

"I'm going to check this out," she said, and before Bartimaeus could utter a word, she was striding boldly down the passage.

She paused at the end of the hall and stared in wonder at the room beyond. Beneath the high-vaulted ceiling, heaps upon heaps of priceless treasures met her eyes—too much to take in all at once. Silver sabers set with rubies lay in a forgotten pile near the wall. A stack of ancient magic texts, as old as dirt, moldered away, their beautiful illuminated pages full of moth-holes, and scattered over the floor. An Egyptian sarcophagus was propped up in the corner, and it seemed to Kitty that its painted eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon her. The entire floor was carpeted with enchanted golden jewelry; Makepeace must have been quite the collector. Kitty stepped into the room.

"Kitty, wait!" She heard Bartimaeus yell.

Immediately she could feel the change in the air—the hot crackle of magic as something materialized behind her. She whirled around.

A tightly woven Nexus of glowing green threads stretched from floor to ceiling, cutting off her escape route and trapping her in the treasury. And Bartimaeus was stuck on the other side.

"Kitty!" The djinni cried, alarmed. He tried to propel himself through the magical barrier, only to be thrust back with enough force to knock him off his feet.

A low, menacing laugh echoed through the treasure room, making the hairs on the back of Kitty's neck stand on end. She clenched her Inferno Stick in both hands and spun in circles looking for the source of the terrifying sound.

"How clever of you," the voice rumbled, "To have come so far. I thought I had gotten rid of you. No matter, that shall shortly be remedied."

The air temperature plummeted, raising rough goose bumps that prickled up and down her arms. Shards of ice, like daggers, formed on the fixtures, and Kitty's hair was white and stiff with frost.

Kitty laughed. "Do you think a bit of cold is going to stop me?" She strolled further into the room and casually yanked a bit of golden jewelry from the nearest frozen pile. _Not the Seal,_ she decided upon examination, and let the trinket slip from her fingers.

"If you are so impervious to the cold, perhaps you would prefer the heat?" The guardian hissed wrathfully.

A faint light glinted deep within a gilded mirror that lay discarded among the treasures. The light grew stronger, hotter, nearer, until suddenly it launched from the reflective surface and blasted towards Kitty as a sheet of white-hot flame. It engulfed her, sizzling against her skin and melting the crystals of ice that hung in her hair. Rivulets of water streamed down her shoulders and off the tip of her nose.

Kitty crossed her arms. "What a pathetic display. I was honestly expecting better."

"Not frozen, not burned?" The voice growled, "You, then, must be one of the Resilient. You think you are invincible, standing there, deflecting my magic. We will see about that!"

"Duck!" Bartimaeus yelled.

"What? Oh!" Kitty leapt aside as a hail of silver daggers whizzed past. Suddenly everything seemed to come alive; the old tomes hurled themselves through the air, flapping their pages and obscuring her vision, gold coins rose and pelted themselves against her skin, the ruby-encrusted sword was taking ominous swings at her head.

"Kitty," Bartimaeus called.

"A bit busy at the moment," Kitty ground out, shielding her eyes with one hand, and with the other fending off the animated sword with a golden scepter.

"Listen to me; you need to break the idol."

"The what?" Now the coils of a long pearl necklace looped around her neck, trying to strangle her.

"Behind you—some kind of Mayan Idol. The guardian is confined inside it."

Kitty turned, wincing as an ornate letter opener sliced her cheek. On a short marble pedestal surrounded by candles, a small squat statue stood, set with a rainbow of precious stones. In a moment, Kitty had leapt across the room and was holding the heavy sculpture high above her head.

"Take that!" She screamed, shattering it against the ground. A shockwave of energy exploded from the broken idol, pelting the room with a hail of golden splinters. A dark mist gathered around the broken shards, rising and forming into a vaguely humanoid shape. The creature stretched out its arms towards her in a menacing gesture, before being carried away by an unfelt wind.

"Freedom…" The shape whispered as it dissolved away.

Immediately the pandemonium ceased. The treasures fell limply to the floor, the bright green Nexus faded into oblivion. Bartimaeus was at her side before she had time to blink.

"Damn it, Kitty!" He exclaimed, "Are you alright?" He tilted up her chin to examine the deep gash on her cheek.

"I'm…I think I'm alright," she gasped. She could barely believe it. Suddenly the djinni chuckled.

"Hey, look down," he said.

The broken remains of the idol lay at her feet, and in the centre, surrounded by a halo of jagged pieces of gold and scattered gemstones, was a heavy golden ring.

Kitty scooped it up gently and held it to the light. It was a signet ring—the kind used in ancient days to seal important documents and letters. Set deep into the flat surface on its top was a six-pointed star. Kitty's breath caught in her throat.

Bartimaeus whistled. "And there it is. Three thousand years and it still looks exactly the same."

Kitty slid the Seal of Solomon onto her finger and extended a hand. "Shall we go?"

OoOoOoOoOoO

Night was beginning to fall, and Nick Drew was growing impatient. Kitty and the demon had been gone for hours, and by this point, Nick was considering whether he should just leave.

Suddenly there was a muffled explosion. The floor in front of Nick collapsed in a cloud of ash, leaving a gaping hole. After a few moments, a magic carpet soared up out of it, carrying two familiar figures.

"It's about time!" Nick yelled as Bartimaeus and Kitty disembarked. "Did you have any luck?"

Kitty grinned and held up her hand. Slack-jawed, Nick gaped at the shining ornament that encircled her ring finger.

"You found it!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah." A mischievous smile suddenly graced Kitty's lips. "So shall we try it out?"

Beside her, Bartimaeus rolled his eyes. "_Must_ we?"

Kitty gave him an innocent look. "Hey, we need to know if it works, don't we? What if it's a fake?"

"Oh fine, whatever," the djinni replied, crossing his arms.

Kitty spun the ring on her finger. For a moment, a bright light seemed to shine from its golden surface.

"Bartimaeus, stand on one leg," she commanded. A glazed look fell over the djinni's face as he complied. Kitty's grin broadened.

"Okay, now do a pirouette." Bartimaeus raised his arms above his head and twirled gracefully. Nick scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, at ease!" Kitty commanded. The glazed look disappeared as the djinni came back to himself.

"It works," she said excitedly. "You didn't even _realize_ you were obeying me!"

Nick shuffled forwards. "Hey Kitty, can I see that for a minute?" He asked, not meeting her gaze.

"Okay, sure." The Seal was in his hands. It felt hot as he slipped it onto his finger. Nick stared a moment at his companions; they stood together, lit by the red light of the dying sun. It was now or never.

"Bartimaeus," Nick commanded, sliding the ring around his finger, "Kill Kitty Jones."


	15. Apotheosis

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry to leave you hanging like that! I intended to post the chapter up a bit earlier than usual, especially after hearing Nari's creative descriptions of her suffering! :) Thank you to everybody who reviewed last chapter: Nari, Ilyia, Lady Noir, Allendra, Lisette, Duckweed, and dyingimmortal--It was really fun to read your reactions. And of course, a huge chocolate-sprinkle covered thank you to Lady Noir, who's beta-ing this story for me. Please note that this is the second last chapter, not including an epilogue. Happy Reading!

* * *

A wave of overpowering weakness swept over Kitty. Every muscle in her body was slack and heavy with shock, as though abandoned by her brain as it struggled to comprehend the words that still rung in her ears. _Kill Kitty Jones._ Nick's smile was cruel and twisted as he stared back at Kitty, one finger gently tracing the star-shaped engraving on the band of gold he wore.

Her gaze slowly turned to the dark-haired Egyptian at her side. He wouldn't do it—couldn't do it, could he?

Bartimaeus was deathly pale. His hands clenched into fists by his sides, a muscle strained in his forehead. His eyes—the dark clear eyes that had captivated her not long ago—seemed to cloud over, settling into a vacant, unfocused expression. The djinni took one hesitating step towards her.

"That's it," Nick hissed, "Go on."

Another step. Kitty watched his advance with all the wide-eyed horror of a mouse at the approach of a snake. It wasn't death itself she was afraid of; it was the idea of _him_ killing her that filled her with cold terror.

"Nick," she whispered, her eyes never leaving Bartimaeus's, "Don't make him do this. You don't have to kill me. Just take the ring and leave us. Please."

"It's not that easy Kitty," Nick replied. "Sorry."

Bartimaeus stood before her now, his slim form somehow imposing. The wind whipped locks of black hair into his face, but the void-like eyes didn't so much as blink.

"Wake up!" Kitty begged. Her eyes burned hot and her knees were bound to give out at any second. She watched helplessly as the djinni's hands rose towards her. An almost surreal sense of detachment settled over her as his fingers constricted around her throat; squeezing a reflexive gasp from her lungs. He was choking her. A shiver passed through her as she stared up at him. His face—normally so alive with expression—was slack and impassive as his grasp tightened, threatening to strangle the life from her.

Her eyes bored into his, searching their empty depths for a spark of the familiar. It was as though the ring had sapped the soul from the empty shell that confronted her, leaving only a vessel for the will of the Seal's wielder. Bartimaeus was there, two inches from her face, fingers clamped mercilessly around her neck, and yet he was not present at all. Where was he? Her vision was blurring, but her eyes remained fixed on his.

"Bartimaeus," she breathed. Her trembling hands rested lightly on his shoulders.

His grip faltered. The fingers loosened slightly but did not relinquish their grasp entirely. His jaw tightened as something swirled beyond his eyes.

"Wake up," Kitty whispered again. Her hands trailed up to gently cup the sides of his face. Her eyes fluttered shut as she pulled his head down towards her and pressed her mouth against his own. She felt him flinch at her touch, every muscle tightly clenched. Then suddenly the rigidity melted away, and his fingers slipped from her throat to instead wind themselves in her hair.

OoOoOoOoOoO

At first, everything was a blur. It was as if I was caught in some kind of half-sleeping state, detached, unaware—not unlike timeless unconsciousness of my home dimension. But instead of the familiar release of the Other Place, I felt constricted. As though I had been plunged underwater with gauze stuffed in my ears and a bag tied over my head—maybe with a straight jacket binding my arms across my chest, and a cocktail of mind-numbing drugs running amok through my brain, with a side helping of…well, you get the picture.

I had a vague idea that I should be struggling against the confinement. There was something I was supposed to remember, something I was supposed to do…or not do. The information seemed to dart out of my grasp no matter how hard I fought to stay awake, to remember. The creeping warmth of this altered state was sinking into my bones and taking me over.

Then, cutting through the hopeless muddle that was my brain, was the echoing whisper of a familiar voice.

"Bartimaeus…" The word, though softly spoken, shook off a few of the tendrils that ensnared my mind. I tried to think. Bartimaeus, that was me, right?

"Wake up," The voice entreated.

Suddenly the spell broke. I felt as if I had been thrown a line, and was being propelled upwards through the layers of my own consciousness. I broke through the surface, my ears ringing, the fog in front of my eyes clearing away. Life flowed into my limbs. I could feel the sharp edge of wind on my face, the jagged rocks that cut into the soles of my shoes, the scratchy fabric of Ptolemy's shirt against my skin… and the gentle weight of a pair of slender arms encircling my neck.

It was only at this point that I realized Kitty was kissing me. And, in fact, that I was kissing her back.

I'd never in my life been kissed before. Obviously, perhaps, considering I've spent my last five thousand years on Earth running errands and obeying orders, without much time for anything else, and as you are probably aware, spirits are rarely involved in romantic entanglements amongst themselves in the first place. I'd seen plenty of it of course; I've been forced to sit by patiently while some master of mine fooled around with his latest piece of arm-candy, or watched reluctantly as some gawky, pimply-faced apprentice lingered in a shadowy corner of his master's house, doing things with the scullery maid of which I am still too scarred to speak. I still remember ((with a roll of my eyes)) how the ladies of the court used to blush and swoon when Charlemagne gallantly brushed his lips against their hand. I hadn't been particularly impressed by any of those rather sordid memories.

This, however, was different. It was warm, dizzying; it made my head feel so light that I wondered for a moment if I was slipping back into my previous comatose state. Kitty's hair slid softly through my fingers, her eyelashes fluttered against my cheek. A strange, salty flavour lingered on her lips. With a start, I recognized it as the taste of tears.

I pulled away, studying her gravely. She had been crying. Worse were the angry red marks that bruised her neck. It all came rushing back.

"It's not your fault," Kitty whispered. Her voice sounded hoarse.

Slowly, I turned my head, fixing my eyes on the scraggly young man who stood gawping at me like a repugnant fish. Did I say a fish? More like a slippery, stinking, traitorous eel.

"Nicholas Drew," I said, cracking my knuckles, "You just made a huge mistake."

Nick's eyes widened. He stumbled back a few steps, twisting the ring on his finger as he went. "Listen to me, Bartimaeus," he shrieked, "Kill Kitty! Kill her!"

The hazy feeling swept over me once again, but Kitty grabbed my hand, weaving her fingers with mine, and somehow the contact kept me there, firmly anchored to reality. I stalked towards Nick, pulling Kitty along behind me.

"I hope you enjoyed your life, because it's about to come to an abrupt end," I hissed.

"And so is yours," called an entirely different voice altogether.

Lady Luck had once again proven that she was not on my side. For there, standing arms folded on a heap of jagged stone, and with a crew of humans-turned-spirits at her back, was Atotoztli—my nemesis in all her mustached glory.

"They tracked us back here!" Kitty cried, reaching for her weapon. Nick Drew saw his chance.

"Spirits!" He shrieked, twisting the golden band to activate the magic, "Attack this girl and her djinni!"

The Seal must have been a potent charm indeed, for the spirits, impressively powerful entities though they were, immediately fell under the sway of the spell. Atotoztli's cold, narrow, little eyes became wide and blank. In unison, the spirits began to march stiffly towards us. Their movements were slow and plodding, as though they were walking against the current of an unseen river. I turned to Kitty.

"Honestly, he expects this lethargic herd of buffalo to finish us off?"

Kitty's lips tightened. "They might be unwilling, but we'll never beat them in a straight up fight."

Unfortunately, she had a point. Staggering as my powers are, and as frightening as Kitty can be, these spirits had us both outnumbered and out-powered. And despite the Infernos Kitty was half-heartedly firing into their ranks, they were steadily closing in.

I pulled Kitty out of the way as a sizzling Detonation blasted the ground at our feet. I fired back at our attacker, but my own magic seemed to have no more effect than Kitty's Inferno Stick.

"Got any silver?" I asked, ducking as a charred brick went sailing over my head.

Kitty was unable to answer, as a paunchy spirit with thin grey hair had latched onto her arm like a leech. The three of us engaged in a brief bout of tug-of-war, with me pulling on one of Kitty's arms and the spirit trying to drag her off by the other. Poor girl.

"Let…go!" I grunted.

"You first!" The spirit countered.

"You're going to dislocate my shoulder!" Kitty cried.

Our heroic battle was decided when our opponent suddenly froze in mid tug, gurgled, and fell face-first to the ground, with a long silver knife sticking out of his back. I blinked in confusion at the unexpected surrender.

A short skinny girl with mousy brown hair stepped over the spirits prone form.

"Need a bit of help?" She asked with a sly smile.

"Piper?" I asked. Her sudden appearance was surprising enough, but add in the undeniable fact that she had actually just done something useful, and you had one completely befuddled djinni on your hands.

The spindly magician gave a sign, and suddenly the entire troop was there, all of Kitty's old companions racing over the ashen ground, brandishing various bits of stolen silver.

The cavalry had arrived.


	16. A Touch of Magic

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the Property of Jonathan Stroud.

A/N: A thousand thank you's to everyone who reviewed last chapter (dyingimmortal, Lisette, Nari, Duckweed, Amaya, Lady Noir, Allendra, Shadowfire, and Measuringtape) Your enthusiasm always brightens my day and keep me motivated. So without further ado, here's chapter 16: the last chapter before the Epilogue. Thanks to the brilliant Lady Noir for beta-ing it!

* * *

The humans ploughed through the circle of spirits, waving their weapons threateningly over their heads as they trampled over the dead lawn, with Piper leading the way like some legendary general. The only thing missing was a heroic battle cry.

Well you know how helpful I like to be.

"For justice!" I cried, punching my fist in the air enthusiastically. Kitty gave me a weird look, and was very nearly skewered by a weathervane in her distraction.

"Pay attention!" I told her, wrestling the metal rod away from her attacker and tossing it over my shoulder.

"Then stop distracting me," Kitty returned, sizzling said attacker with a blast from her Inferno Stick. I gave him a kick for good measure.

All around us, the rest of the humans were doing quite well for themselves. They weaved their way through a bright green hailstorm of Detonations, trusting in their innate resilience for protection.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pale spindly form, ((housing an Afrit of at least the fourth level)) release a powerful Hurricane. With a hideous howl, the magical wind barreled towards a small group of humans, tossing them in the air like a handful of autumn leaves. For a moment, the scattered humans lay unmoving in the dirt. Suddenly they pulled themselves to their feet, took up their shining weapons, and swarmed the creature all at once. The spirit barely had time to utter a surprised cry before it toppled to the ground. Impressive stuff, I must say.

"Hey Barty," someone called in a sing-song voice. Rebecca stood nearby, giving me a cheeky grin as she clutched a silver butter knife with shimmery essence still dripping from the rounded tip.

"Did you just stab someone with that?" I cried incredulously, feeling a twinge of pity for the young magician's poor opponents.

"Silverware's in short supply," she said offhandedly, drying the blade off on her pant leg. "But I'm doing what I can with what I've got. I haven't got any resilience either. Impressive, huh?" She favoured me with an exaggerated wink. There's no one quite like Piper when it comes to making you feel completely awkward in the middle of a deadly battle.

Kitty's fingers tightened around mine, and her free hand came up to hook around my inner elbow.

"We're positively filled with awe," she said coolly, fixing Piper with a withering stare. Piper blinked repeatedly, looking a bit like a stunned moth. The three of us stood there uncomfortably as silver and glass and cracking orbs of magic sailed every which way around us.

"Ahem, well good to see you back on our side," Piper finally said to me.

"Likewise," I replied, inclining my head politely.

"By the way," Kitty said musingly. "What happened to all of you? I was under the impression you were dead."

"We almost were. We managed to escape before the spirits demolished the warehouse, and we've all been hiding out in London ever since. Then yesterday morning we spotted all these spirits leaving Parliament and we figured you must be in trouble, so we tracked them here… and just in time, too."

"I'll say," I said, shaking off a short stumpy spirit that had latched onto me like a monkey and was attempting to bite my arm.

The creature seized up with shuddering twitches as Piper plunged her butter knife into its flesh. Making the most of a golden opportunity, ((and feeling rather obliged to put the poor thing out of its misery before Piper could really get to work on it,)) I grabbed a hold of the spirit's collar. He squeaked in surprise as I swung him around and sent him flying into a pack of approaching spirits, knocking them every which way like a bunch of suit-clad bowling pins.

Unfortunately, that prevented me from noticing the red-hot Eruption that seared the air as it plunged into the ground behind me and exploded with a deafening roar. The force of the blast whipped me across the blackened battleground, our joined hands pulling Kitty alongside me. We dropped into the dirt in a tangle of limbs; Kitty's elbow sank painfully into my poor stomach and knocked the wind from my lungs.

Kitty sat up and got her bearings as I gasped and sputtered most piteously. Her eyes suddenly narrowed and she scrambled to her feet, dragging me along with her.

"What," ((gasp, cough)) "Are you doing?" ((wheeze, choke))

In answer, a magnificent explosion blasted the ground where we had just recently been lying, leaving a giant smoking crater.

"Oh," ((pant, pant)) "Never mind."

OoOoOoOoOoO

The immediate danger gone, Kitty pushed her hair out of her face and surveyed the battleground. The humans had initially been doing well, but now that the element of surprise had been overcome, the spirits were beginning to push back the survivors. She winced painfully as a blank-eyed spirit in a weathered suit bashed a young boy over the head with the end of a broken drainpipe.

"Bartimaeus," she called, pointing to the boy's crumpled form.

"I'm on it." The djinni released her hand and was sprinting across the broken ground. An unexpected rush of cold flowed through her fingers at the sudden loss of contact. Kitty sighed and rubbed her hands together absently.

A slight movement to her left caught her eye. Kitty's expression hardened as her eyes lighted upon a bedraggled man with a filthy beard, creeping steadily away from the battle and clutching the small ring in his hand like a lifeline. _Nick_.

"Oh no, you don't," Kitty muttered. She pushed her way through the fray towards the escaping traitor. Humans and djinn struggled and fell around her, but she paid no heed. Hands reached out to stop her; Bartimaeus called her name, but she continued unfeeling, unhearing. Her sole focus was the coward who was skulking away from the battle, leaving his minions to kill his former companions without a second thought. She didn't even notice the lean, mustached, spirit that marched after her, glazed eyes intent on its prey.

Nick caught sight of her single-minded approach and took off at a run towards the road, throwing terrified glances back at the girl pursuing him. Kitty increased her speed; he was close, almost within arms reach. Suddenly Nick stopped, spinning around to face her, hands fumbling as he frantically spun the ring on his finger.

"Spirit!" He shrieked as Atotoztli approached. "Kill this girl! Quickly! Kill her!"

The spirit quickened her pace, reached out a hand for her…

Kitty ignored her utterly. With a cry of suppressed fury, she tackled the taller man to the ground, grappling with him for possession of the ring. Nick made a tight fist and kicked at her as she attempted to wrest it off his finger.

Suddenly, Atotoztli grabbed Kitty by the leg and dragged her off the young man. The girl cried out in frustration as she slid backwards through the dirt.

Nick sat up, gasping for breath. His hand drifted over his ring finger. Nothing but an angry purple bruise encircled it.

Slowly, almost unbelievingly, Kitty opened her clenched fingers. Her eyes widened as the heavy golden band gleamed in her palm. The enchantment was broken.

For a moment, Atotoztli stood over the pair, uncertain. Her gaze rested on Kitty, on Nick. Then, eyes hardening, she reached towards the disheveled young man and wrapped her fingers around his neck.

Kitty squeezed her eyes shut, wincing at the sickening snap. Taking a shaky breath, she slid the ring onto her finger and stood to her feet, studiously ignoring the limp form of Nicholas Drew, and the stern spirit that stood over it.

"Stop fighting!" Her voice rang out clear over the battlefield, her command intended for human and spirit alike.

Silence reigned. All eyes, whether the blank ones of the entranced spirits or the confused, questioning ones of the survivors, were trained on her.

She walked towards them, leaving Nick where he lay.

"The spirits are currently under my power," she explained to her companions. "They won't hurt you, so leave them alone for now." Piper, looking a bit singed and bruised, placed her knife on the ground. One by one, the others followed suit.

"What are you going to do?" Piper asked curiously.

Kitty's eyes scoured the still ranks of djinn and humans. "Well, first of all…" her eyes lighted on Bartimaeus, once again still and obedient under the ring's power. "Bartimaeus, snap out of it. You don't have to listen to me."

The djinni blinked. Then glared and crossed his arms. "That thing's a menace," he complained.

Kitty smiled as she gently took his hand. "Well, it still has one use at least." She turned to the expectant spirits. "Take me to Nouda!"

OoOoOoOoOoO

Lord Nouda, the great spirit, sprawled lethargically in his throne, claws tapping a restless rhythm against the ornate golden armrests. He heaved a sigh, loud in the empty silence of Parliament. He had long since tired of the amusements London had to offer, the hunting, the destruction, the revenge. It had been so satisfying at first, yet now everything seemed bleak and empty.

The confinements of the physical realm pressed harshly upon Nouda's now unprotected essence—a constantly growing ache in his bones that made him feel stiff and irritable. He had come to regret ever entering this dimension, but now it was too late. There was no way home.

In the months since the spirits had conquered London, he had taken to brooding silently to himself, ignoring the daily trials and tribulations of the spirits who served him—much to their bewilderment. Often he had found himself turning the words of the djinni Bartimaeus over in his mind. The lesser spirit had not been interested in avenging himself, in fact he had been deeply concerned over the fates of the two humans in the spirits' care—a perversion that still had the power to boil the blood of the dejected spirit. To care for a human, Nouda felt, was profoundly wrong. And yet, Nouda now understood what Bartimaeus had meant when he had said that all he wanted was to go home to the comfort of the Other Place. Spirits were not meant to exist permanently in this world.

Nouda's ruminations were rudely interrupted by a sudden influx of people. Spirits and humans alike flooded into the throne room, voices chattering excitedly, feet trampling against the floorboards. Nouda watched them disinterestedly as they crowded around him. A small gray-haired girl streaked with ash and dirt pushed her way to the front of the crowd, at her side an Arabic-looking boy that Nouda recognized as the djinni he had just been contemplating.

The girl wordlessly raised her hand, displaying the ornate signet ring that graced her slender finger. The star-shaped rune scratched deep into its surface glowed hotly.

"Your spirits," Kitty Jones said, "Are under my control. So don't try anything stupid."

Nouda's slit-like eyes darted between the girl and the spirits. "You appear to have the upper hand, Ms. Jones," He spoke in a deep, languid tone as he absently rubbed the scaly tips of his many fingers together. "You've come for your revenge I suppose?"

Kitty pursed her lips together. "I could kill you—all of you, if I wanted," she said. "No one would say you didn't deserve it. It would be terribly easy. All I'd have to do is turn this ring and you'd do anything I say without thinking. However…" she looked sideways at the djinni beside her. "There's someone I know who wouldn't like that very much. I'm not here to hurt you; I'm here to help you."

Nouda sat up straight in his seat, fixing all his concentration on the girl. "What? You? How could _you_ help _us_? And why would you consider doing so?"

Kitty smirked a little. "I can use this ring to dismiss you and the rest of the spirits. With its power, I could send you all back to the Other Place where you belong. That is—if you agree."

The spirit's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch?"

"There is none. You can go home, and we can be free—just as it was intended to be. Do you accept my offer?"

Go home? That was all Nouda wanted. He nodded his massive head.

"Yes. Send us back, if you can."

Kitty gently twisted the ring on her finger. A soft wind blew through the room, stirring her hair. A thin mist slowly rose up from the bodies of the spirits and gathered overhead to dissipate into the air. The empty shells that had once contained their essence fell limply to the floor. Nouda could feel his own body begin to lose its substance as he was drawn home.

"For a human, you truly are extraordinary, Kathleen Jones," he mused, staring at his translucent hands.

And then he was gone.


	17. Epilogue

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Well, here it is - the final installment. It's been a blast writing this story and I'm sad to see it finish. To all my reviewers: Nari-nick, Annatari, Lisette, Hollyclaw, Duckweed, Pikk, Allendra, silvertrumpet, Drollery, Lady Noir, Shadowfire, Sophia666, dyingimmortal, Ilyia, Measuringtape, and amaya 24, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing the story, I loved hearing your comments. I want to extend a special thanks to Nari, Duckweed, and Lisette who reviewed every single chapter since the story began - it meant alot to me to be able to read your thoughts every week. As always, a big thank you to Lady Noir for beta-ing this chapter! I'll see you guys around!

conception.creation

* * *

London at dawn. In the early morning quiet, the soft patter of shoes over worn stone tapped a comfortable rhythm as Kitty and I walked side-by-side in silence. The clean, cold scent of early autumn pervaded the air, lending a crisp sharpness to our surroundings. Soft golden sunlight warmed the cracked stone façade of the ruined London buildings, which now, to my mind, seemed charmingly worn rather than gloomy and oppressive. After all, it is a lot easier to enjoy the natural beauty around you when you're no longer being chased by a violent horde of bloodthirsty body-snatchers with a vendetta.

"This seems like a good place," Kitty said as we came upon a large, empty plaza lined with trees. "There's plenty of space, in case something goes wrong. What do you think?"

The wind tossed strands of silvery hair into Kitty's upturned face, tickling her cheeks and catching at her eyelashes. I waited a moment, admiring the relaxed smile that graced her lips for the first time in far too long.

"I think this is perfect," I said finally.

Kitty gave another quick glance around her. She knelt down in the street, loose gravel grinding into the knees of her denim jeans. She slid the Seal of Solomon from her finger with measured gravity, holding it out so that it reflected a ray of soft morning light into her face. After a meditative pause, she placed it gently on the grey cobblestones before her. She pulled her hand away, drew a deep breath, and turned to me.

"Okay, are you ready?"

I cracked my knuckles in anticipation and stretched my arms out before me, wriggling my fingers. "I'm read if you're ready."

Kitty's hand moved to the heavy iron mallet that hung from the belt loop of her pants. ((It was something Piper had found in a hardware store the night before; we'd been looking for just such an instrument ever since Nouda's departure, and had had the entire team of survivors out searching fruitlessly for twelve hours straight. Needless to say we were all a bit disgruntled at the girl's lucky find.))

The mallet shone coldly as Kitty raised it above her head. "Three," she called, "…two…one!"

As she swung downwards, I raised my arms, creating the bright green dome of a Shield to protect us from the legion of Marids we were about to release. The iron wedge came down upon the Seal with an echoing crack like the sound of ice splitting. A flash of white hot light seared our eyelids. The maimed loop of gold vibrated, pulsed, liquefied, and then exploded in a fury of shadow, flame, and acidic clouds that reeked of sulfur.

Suddenly the Shield buckled. The wave of convulsing flame ripped through the delicate green membrane, striking us dead on with the force of a luxury airliner smoking a passing goose. We slammed into the ground, dirt clogging our nostrils as smoke and fire and blades of ice raged around us. Unearthly voices whispered from the heart of the maelstrom, tongues of flame licked at our skin like grasping fingers.

And then it was over.

I lay still for a moment, taking stock of all my body parts and feeling rather surprised to find them all where they belonged. Not a single singed hair. Even my clothing had made it through okay. ((Those Marids; all bluster and show and no real substance at all. If it was _me _who'd been released after being locked in a tiny scrap of gold for three thousand years, I'd let the world know what I thought of it before dematerializing, let me tell you! It could be, of course, that the entities in the ring were so pleased by their sudden freedom that, in their gratitude, they decided to spare our lives, but I wouldn't count on it.))

Kitty rolled herself up into a sitting position and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Well that was dramatic."

I shrugged. "Magic rings often are. Count yourself lucky. I remember this one time, an old wizard charged me to destroy a magic ring. Turned out it could only be destroyed by being cast into the heart of a live volcano in the middle of a decaying kingdom of pure evil. Frightful mess, that was."

"Sounds like a lot of bother."

"You have no idea." A thought suddenly crossed my mind. "You know, Kitty; what you just did is actually quite impressive. You could have had a lot of power, but you gave it up without a second thought."

Kitty grimaced and shook her head. "I don't want that kind of power over others."

I grinned. "Weren't you tempted even a_ tiny_ bit?"

"Oh yes, of course you're right. What was I thinking? I could have had you as my slave for all eternity," she said sarcastically.

"Technically," I said, standing, "You don't need a ring to do that. I'm still under your summons, if I recall." I held out a hand and helped her to her feet.

Kitty regarded me mischievously from beneath a thick fringe of dark eyelashes. "Useful information," she said, tilting her head "Though I doubt I'll need mind-control to convince you of what I have in mind for you right now…"

My eyebrows shot up. "Oh? Do tell."

Our exchange was cut short by a discrete cough. Kitty and I turned in unison to glare at the unwelcome intruder.

Then my heart stopped.

I found myself staring into a bemused pair of dark eyes. The Egyptian face into which they were set, though young, was marked with great pensiveness and thought, and the lips were currently contorted into a knowing smirk as the figure stood with his back to the sun. After all these years… Ptolemy.

"You're back!" Kitty exclaimed.

The figure gave her a serene smile.

"Yes. I've come back to congratulate you. And to thank you of course. Your generosity towards Nouda has formed the first ties of trust between humanity and the spirits at large. The first of many, I foresee. I'll be able to rest in peace, now."

Kitty pursed her lips. "Rest? Does that mean this is the last time you'll be visiting me?"

Ptolemy nodded solemnly. "Regretfully, yes. You don't need my help anymore."

"You barely gave me any help in the first place," she muttered, but she wrapped him in a warm hug anyways.

"Good bye, Kitty. I'll be watching you." He told her.

At last he turned to me. I suddenly realized I'd been staring wordlessly ever since laying eyes on my former master, and quickly snapped my gaping mouth shut with a loud clack of teeth.

"Hello, old friend," he said quietly.

I glanced down at the form I was wearing, feeling rather awkward. Like I was a kid caught trying on his father's business suit.

Ptolemy must have noticed my distress, for he shot me a knowing wink. "Don't worry," he said, "It looks better on you anyways."

I blinked.

"Farewell my friends," Ptolemy said, "I must go. I'll just let you get back to… whatever it was that you were doing." He smirked again.

"Goodbye," I said, ignoring the jibe, "and thanks."

"No," Ptolemy replied, "Thank _you_."

He was gone. Kitty and I stood for a while, listening to the empty sound of the wind. Kitty's fingers curled around mine, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Well," I said at last, "We've done it again, haven't we? Saved London, all by ourselves…"

Kitty made a show of glancing around at the crumbling walls and boarded up windows. "Hmm, I can't say it looks _saved_, exactly. More like pulverized and blown to bits."

"Yes, a pity that. Well then I suppose we have a lot of work ahead of us, don't we?"

Kitty sighed tiredly. "I suppose we do."

I laughed. "Don't be like that. You're actually very lucky, you know."

"Oh? Lucky you call it?"

"Yup. Lucky you have me. Have I ever told you how I build the walls of Prague? All that architectural experience is bound to come in handy."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Oh good, after suffering through hearing you talk _so much_ about your prowess in that department, I finally get to see it for myself. Hurray."

I crossed my arms. "Hey, at least _pretend_ to be impressed." I tapped my chin thoughtfully and considered. "We'd need to draw up some blueprints, take an inventory of all the damaged buildings, get the others to collect whatever tools they can find...oh, and you might want to notify the rest of the world that Nouda's gone and your alive. You could use the magic carpet and…"

I ceased babbling as she placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Time enough for all that later," she whispered against my mouth. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around her. After all, Kitty was a girl with a good set of priorities.

The End


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